


The Whisper in Our Stars

by AriKitsune19



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:29:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28543344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriKitsune19/pseuds/AriKitsune19
Summary: Two worlds tearing them apart: a Tevinter mage and a Dalish hunter. The destruction of Haven has brought them together and now, they - along with their comrades - must work together to stop Corypheus. But soon, a harmless friendship turns into something more... Rated M for gore/blood, violence, language, smutty scenes between two men, and mpreg scenes later on. If you don't like it, THEN PLEASE DO NOT READ!
Relationships: Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 9
Kudos: 1





	1. In Your Heart Shall Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Dragon Age: Inquisition belongs to BioWare. This part is considered to be the prologue to the main story, based on my own gameplay of this game with my Lavellan archer character. This is my first Dragon Age fanfiction; I hope you all enjoy it. ^^

_**Location: Village of Haven (Frostback Mountains)  
** _ _**Date: Friday, The 26st of Solace in 9:41 Dragon** _

Snow danced in the light, a choreographed ballet conducted by the gentle wind. The celebration went on into the night, everyone dancing like they'd forgotten how to stand still. They had won sealing the Breach and things were only going to get better from here on in. They were electrified and awake, soaring to new heights of emotion. Theron Lavellan's achievement makes everyone with him want to get on the track to train. If he can do it, so can everyone else with him - the templars, the mages, the Chantry - basically everyone.

His icy light-lavender eyes stared at the empty hole in the sky. His midnight hair shone like the sea at night, the black strands utterly white where bright rays fell. As he moved, so did those brilliant locks, like echoes of the aurora lights. He could feel the fear in his chest, waiting to take over. Perhaps it only wants to protect him, but there really isn't any danger...was there?

Footsteps reached Theron's ears, but his gaze were still locked onto the hole in the sky. He could already tell who it was; it was Cassandra, his best friend. "Solas confirms the skies are scarred, but calm. The Breach is sealed. We have gotten reports of rifts still lingering and still so many questions, but this was a victory. Your heroism has spread."

The elf sighs softly. He always relaxed when Cassandra touched his shoulder, but not this time. "Talk to me, Theron. You are troubled."

He sighed again; this time, it was of a softly deflating; it was as if that tension had lifted - yet left him with melancholy instead of relief. "We still don't know what caused this. We can't rest easily just yet."

She nodded and removes her hand. "I agree. One succeed doesn't guarantee peace. The immediate danger is gone. For some, so is the necessity of the alliance. We must be wary and the Inquisition will need new focus."

Not even a moment later, the bells rang in a peal. Normally, this would signal a wedding or Sunday service. But it was the early night and the clanging that echoed through the valley was chaotic rather than melodic. It was a warning. The Venatori was coming for Haven.

* * *

Dorian doubled over. A punch in the gut will do that, knocking the wind right out of him. That lack of breath will keep him incapacitated for a time. He had no choice but to fight to re-inflate his lungs as the gates to Haven opened for him. Cullen and Theron come out to greet him, who slowly stands back up straight. "I know I'm fashionably late, but I came to warn you."

He stumbles once again, but Cullen catches him against his side. Dorian gently pushes the commander aside. "Mite exhausted. Don't mind me." The mage pauses for a moment to examine Theron, his mind speaking. ' _A Dalish elf? Interesting..._ '

To Dorian, Theron Lavellan was beautiful. The hero-shaped nose, thin yet full lips, sharp cheekbones, strong jaw taper towards his chin, and black eyeshadow around the deep-set eyes on a triangular face was an intriguing choice; his elven ears were elongated nicely as well. He has sand-toned skin, his faded facial scars told a story, and the tree symbol of vallaslin covered a good portion of his forehead. But those icy lavender eyes...it threw Dorian off and could be mesmerized by them for hours. His black hair was like the midnight sky in a god-like style, ending at the middle of his back and a side-swept bang mostly covering his right eye.

Dorian then shakes his head to get his mind straight and back on track. "There you are! I had to rush here due to the mage rebellion at Redcliffe, but trust me...you're not going to like it." He pauses to catch his breathe. "They're being led by the Venatori who follow something called ' _The Elder One_ '."

He points behind him. "The Venatori leader is that woman, Calpernia. The other...the Elder One." He then turns back to Cullen and Theron. "I risked my ass to get here first before they could march onto Haven."

Theron ran his hand through his lengthy hair, teeth tugging at his cracking lower lip. "Cullen, got any plans?"

The commander tries to not worry him any further. "Haven is no fortress. We must control the battle to withstand that monster. Get out there and use everything you got." He unsheathes his sword and turns back towards the army. "Soldiers, gather the villagers! Fortify and watch for advanced forces! Inquisition! With the Herald! For your lives! For all of us!" The cheers erupt like an auditory volcano. It is all quiet one second and then deafening the next, rising to a crescendo and echoes around the village that put the fighting spirit into the soldiers.

* * *

In a field that has seen thousands of years of peace lie cold corpses, and still the weapons are fired without stop, without a single witness. The battle is mechanized and even when no more heat signatures remain they will fire until empty. The clangor of the swords had died away, the shouting of the slaughter was hushed; silence lay on the red-stained snow. The pale bleak moon that glittered so blindingly from the icefields and the snow-covered plains struck sheen of silver from rent corsets and broken blades, where the dead lay in heaps. The nerveless hand yet gripped the broken hilt: helmeted heads, back drawn in the death throes with tilted red and golden beards grimly upward, as if in last invocation to frost giants.

The sight shall haunt Theron forever as he had sent his companions away so that he could fend off Corypheus and his Archdemon not too long ago. He fell underground to escape the avalanche that buried Haven, taking a hard fall as he hits the ice and coughs up blood. It felt as if his lungs aren't there as he tries to bring air in. He could feel his muscles straining and the thoughts in his head turned from fear to a dizzy confusion. He pushes himself up and it wasn't long until he had to step back outside into the raging blizzard.

In a moment the world became snowglobe, one of those Feastday ornaments young children loved to shake up and watch the flakes swirl in unseen currents. The snow became so thick that the trees appeared as the confetti, as if they were the flakes that danced. Everywhere there was light, every crystal magnifying the rays from above. Bitterly cold and humid - such an enchanting combination. Every surface, every blade of grass and twig is growing long ice crystals ten or more millimeters in length. Cold licked at Theron's face and crept under his clothes, spreading across his skin like the lacy tide on a frigid winter beach. With purple lips tinged with blue and gently chattering teeth, he wrapped his arms around himself tighter. The Dalish elf's body needs to rest - yet his mind needs it to move, to burn the anxiety right out. Without exercise, his mind will keep him up for the remainder of the long night and without rest, his body was spiraling into exhaustion.

He walks for what seems like an eternity until he stumbles a campfire that has recent embers. In the distance, he could finally see the thick gray smoke billowing into the skies. Theron knew he would faint when his stomach gave out. It felt like his innards were being replaced by some kind of black hole. Then nausea crept from his abdomen to his head and the world went black.

"Theron! Thank the Maker!" Cassandra rushes to her best friend's side and lifts him onto her back. "He's very cold, Cullen."

"Let's get him back down there and he can get some rest."

* * *

The arguing between Cullen, Josephine, Leliana, and Cassandra had a dull exhaustion to it, like they'd been over the same bitterness too many times before.

Although still weak, Theron opens his eyes slowly and tries to sit up, but a gentle voice is heard next to him. "Shhh. You must rest, Theron."

"But they've...been at it for hours..." Theron's eyes meet Mother Giselle. He talked with her before at Haven's Chantry; she was a decent judge of character and just wanted what was best for everybody as well as strongly following the Chant of Light and its teachings best as she could. "They have the luxury of arguing, thanks to you. The enemy has not followed us and we turn to blame...with time to doubt as well. But the infighting is just as chaotic as Corypheus."

He shifts to his side to look at Giselle again. "Do we...even know where Corypheus and his army went?"

She shakes her head. "No. There's been no sign of him. To the enemy, you are believed to be dead. Without Haven, he thinks we are hopeless...or he girds for another attack. I cannot claim to know his mind...only his effect on us."

He sighs softly in frustration. "The only think yelling gets us is...another painful headache." He then fully forces himself to sit up and dangle his feet over the cot. "Mother Giselle, I just...don't see how my beliefs matter right now. Lies or not, Corypheus is a real physical threat. We can't match that with hope alone."

Theron stands up to go stare at the campfire. He didn't want to bring down the mood even further, but seeing all he has done and only to fail, it scarred him more than any hunting knife ever could. He was lost and didn't know what to do. That was until he turns around to see Mother Giselle standing and beginning to sing.

 **_Shadows fall  
_ ** **_And hope has fled  
_ ** **_Steel your heart  
_ ** **_The dawn will come  
_ ** **_The night is long  
_ ** **_And the path is dark  
_ ** **_Look to the sky  
_ ** **_For one day soon  
_ ** **_The dawn will come_ **

Soon enough, Leliana joins in the song and everyone else, lifting their spirits a little bit.

 _**The shepard's lost  
** _ _**And his home is far  
** _ _**Keep to the stars  
** _ _**The dawn will come  
** _ _**The night is long  
** _ _**And the path is dark  
** _ _**Look to the sky  
** _ _**For one day soon  
** _ _**The dawn will come** _

Soon, the people join in front of Theron. Some give him a salute and some even get down on one knee for him, choosing their leader. They were lifted by his presence.

_**Bare your blade** _   
_**And raise it high** _   
_**Stand your ground** _   
_**The dawn will come** _   
_**The night is long** _   
_**And the path is dark** _   
_**Look to the sky** _   
_**For one day soon** _   
_**The dawn will come** _

Mother Giselle looks at Theron once more. "An army needs more than an enemy. It needs a cause."

* * *

_**Location: Fortress of Skyhold (Frostback Mountains)  
** _ _**Date: Wednesday, The 1st of August in 9:41 Dragon** _

Thanks to Solas, the people reach their new base Skyhold. Families comforted each other; soldiers, both fit and ill, settled in nicely and everything got into working order as Cassandra then leads Theron, who was now wearing his newly designed black outfit. "Your decision let us heal the sky and your determination brought us here. You are Corypheus's rival because of what you did. And we know it...all of us."

After stepping up some stairs, Leliana is shown...holding a dragon-designed sword. "The Inquisition requires a leader: the one who has _already_ been leading it. You."

Theron was surprised. The people truly looked up to him as a natural leader; he just didn't realize it as he turns back to Cassandra. "I...dunno what to say..."

"Just say that you won't regret me this."

He chuckles softly. "Then why do it if you're not sure?"

"Because I believe this is what is meant to be. Without you Theron, my best friend, there would be no Inquisition right now. What it means for the future. You now lead us. That is entirely up to you."

Theron takes his new sword. It was named _Darkheart of the Dragon_ , shining in the sun as if it were fashioned from the brilliant rays themselves. The broad silvery metal was warmed, as was the rock it rested upon. In all the landscape it was the thing that drew the eye, a symbol of the kind of bravery that enables others to find their own courage, to be more than they thought themselves able to be. Yet, as the moon, it was a reflection of the sunlight, of love's own energy and the duty of protection. He takes a deep breath. "I may be a Dalish elf, but Corypheus will never leave me be. He made that clear. He intends on becoming a god, to rule over us all. He must be stopped!"

Cassandra gets closer to Theron. "Wherever you lead us. Have our people been told?"

Josephine arises from the crowd, nodding. "They have. And soon, the world."

"Commander, will they follow?"

Cullen turns to the people. "Inquisition, will you follow? Will you fight? Will we triumph?!"

There is something magical about being one of a crowd, an easing to the loneliness within. We act, cheer, feel the same emotions together. What Theron could read on their faces was written on his and in that echo of our humanity, we are as close to being one as we will ever be. In that moment of unity, there is a feeling of freedom Theron cannot feel other parts of his life. The cheers and raised swords spoke for themselves. Theron then raises his sword, the blade stretched towards the sky and the echoes were stronger than ever. Cullen turns back. "Your leader! Your Herald! Your _Inquisitor_!"

* * *

Reparations at Skyhold were immediate and surprisingly enough, the dedication and high morale has kept everyone busy. The main building was fixed, the undercroft now holds the forge, the garden was beautiful to be a place of peace, and all the companions got situated nicely.

Theron wasn't needed for the immediate moment and decides to head to his quarters. Since the strong fortress was settled in the Frostback Mountains, it was very cold and that was something he didn't need right now, shutting the doors and lights the hearth in his room. He dresses into a simple white tunic and light pants before crawling into the dwarven-style four poster bed that had curtains and soon enough, Theron finally closes his eyes and falls into a peaceful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm skipping scenes, but the game mostly speaks for itself. As for the song "The Dawn Will Come", it is one of the best in-game songs I've ever hear to date. The tone of it was perfect and I wouldn't have it any other way.
> 
> Nextly, while this fanfic is based on the relationship of my Lavellan and Dorian, missions from the game alongside the other companions and advisors will be put in as well. The Black Skyhold Outfit is a mod by xanuen and is pretty slick. I recommend checking it out on the Nexus!
> 
> Anyway, I hope this was okay. Constructive criticism and reviews would be appreciated. See you guys later ^^


	2. Mark Druffalo

_**Location: Redcliffe Farms Camp (The Hinterlands)** _   
_**Date: Tuesday, The 7th of August in 9:41 Dragon** _

**_Lost: Prize-winning druffalo, Druffy.  
_ _Ran away when demons attacked.  
Last seen running towards ravine.  
_ _If found and returned, a reward will be given._ **

Autumn had finally decided to come. The foliage above could be infinite dreams of scarlet and gold, playful in the soft light, colors ignited for all who care to see. They are the candles of the daylight, these trees that bring their art to our world, their branches taking root in the sky. When the wind blew they came down, breaking delicately off of tree branches and fluttering down to earth like a colorful rain. With each new peak came a new farm, so small were their endowments. They kept enough animals for their own consumption; any excess bartered with neighbors for whatever they couldn't grow themselves.

Theron, Cassandra, Varric, Dorian, and Iron Bull were all exhausted as they collapse onto the ground at camp. The darling Inquisitor goes after his deerskin flask to quickly gulp down cold water.

Dorian chuckles. "Slow down on that water or you'll choke."

Cassandra goes to sit at the small pond in front of the tents, wetting a cloth and cleaning the blade to wipe off the blood. Varric does the same with his crossbow, _Bianca_. They weren't exactly close, but Varric sure loved getting a rise out of her. He peeks over at her pack next to Theron and his eyes widen. "Seriously? _Swords and Shields_? How did you find that serial? Scrape it off the bottom of a barrel in Dust Town?"

Cassandra looks at him, giving him a death stare almost. Her eyes were spirals of earthy brown colliding with honey droplets, giving her the image like a stern aunt. "It was research! I thought I might learn more about Saerion."

While the two of them bickered, Theron was splitting the bread and cuts up thin slices of goat cheese on top of each before he has Iron Bull hand it out to everyone. The name mentioned by Cassandra was none other than the Champion of Kirkwall.

Varric chuckles. "I _did_ write a book about him, ya know. You might remember it. Had your knife stuck through it the last I saw."

She finishes wiping down her sword's blade before getting another one to dry it off. "I already read that one. _Twice_."

"Still, I can't believe you picked the absolute worst of my books to read. Why not _Hard in Hightown_?"

Cassandra takes a bite of her food before answering him. "I have enough mysteries and investigations of my own."

Varric finishes cleaning his crossbow and sheathes it on his back. "What? You don't want to solve more in your spare time?"

"You killed my favorite character in chapter 3, so I threw the book across the room."

The dwarf laughs again at her frustration. "Ah, a critic. Say no more."

Iron Bull then hears a soft hiss as he then turns over to Theron. "Hey. You okay there, boss?"

Theron was holding tightly onto his left arm, his teeth clenched. His mind screamed out as the pain drove through his arm. Every thought he just had became confused as the burning pain licked up his arm like scorching fire. "It...it burns really bad..."

Cassandra finishes her food and gives him more water from her own deerskin, rubbing his back. Whenever she comforted Theron in such a way, people rumored them as lovers that irritated Cassandra, but best friends were family too. "We have one more rift to close and hopefully, the pain will cease before we return to Skyhold. What else must we do?"

Dorian looks at her. "Apparently, one of the farmer's cows has gone awry. Thankfully, the last rift is close to where it ran off to."

Though exhausted, the group of five press on. They cross the Forannan Ravine and head into the Gully of the Burnt Men. Funny enough, they find the missing Druffy, who looks confused and lost. Theron clicked his tongue and the youngling bellows softly, welcoming his touch. "There's a good girl."

Iron Bull chuckles at seeing the interaction. "I see you're good with animals, boss."

Theron chuckles, but then Cassandra brings up the other issue. "Well...how are we gonna get her to the farms with that rift still lingering about?"

Dorian eyes the green hue in the background for a minute, but then he smirks before turning to look at Varric.

The dwarf was catching onto something. "What, Sparkler?"

"Five royals if we charge towards the rift first and you come in with Bianca...while on Druffy's back. And _none_ of us fall."

Varric blushes in embarrassment. "Seriously...?"

"Why not? Plus, you may even look cute doing it."

The dwarf disapproved of this method, but he grunted as the others snicker. "Double the cost. Or I could send a letter to your family perhaps..."

The Tevinter cocked an eyebrow. "The dwarf plays dirty. All right, fine, you win. This time..."

* * *

A sudden gush of pain jolted throughout Theron's body. His stomach ached, his left arms tensed up as he disrupts the rift, and his legs began to weaken. Cassandra's agile movement was far too slow as six pairs of rough clawed hands tried to seize her. Bull's massive two-handed axe was stained with blood as he dodged to the side in one fluid move before coming to the Seeker's aid that allowed her to execute a somersault.

"Hey, Tiny!" The others turned to see Varric...mounted on the back of a roaring Druffy who was rushing very fast with her long, curved, sharp horns ready to protect the group. He was holding Bianca, ready to fire. "Any chance you could get out of the damn way so that I can shoot!"

Bull gets out of the way. The arrows launch fly - straight and true, always right on target as it hits the terror demons making them shriek. Druffy wasn't having it as she charges with all of her might, even to lifting another terror demon and tosses it. Wraiths came in to fight, but Theron hits them all with his arrows and Dorian attacks them with his storm magic. Once the rift was small enough, Cassandra yells out. "Now! Close the rift!"

His left arm throbbing, Theron did his job as he closes the rift and it dissipates. All rifts in the Hinterlands were now closed, making the area fully safe. Iron Bull helps Varric dismount Druffy. Theron stumbles to the ground and Cassandra helps him up. "Easy, _lethallin_. Let's get the druffalo back and then we head back to Skyhold."

No more activity happened as they "escort" Druffy back to her pen. She mumbles towards Theron as a friendly way of saying "thank you". Once closing the pen door, Theron approaches the owner, who smiles at the Dalish and shakes his hand. "Thank you for finding her. I'll ensure that this never happens again." He then gives 150 gold coins, allowing the group to leave.

* * *

_**Location/Date: Skyhold || Wednesday, The 15th of August** _

Dorian and Varric head inside the fortress as Iron Bull heads to the tavern to relax with the Chargers and Cassandra goes to do some more intense sword practice. Theron was about to head to his quarters, but Cullen stops him. "Inquisitor..."

"Cullen?" The sad look on the commander's face said it all as he hands a letter to Theron. "I'm...so sorry..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Druffy is the name of the druffalo you rescue for the quest "Where the Druffalo Roam" in the Hinterlands. Kingsway is the Thedas month name for September. Luka is my DA2 male Hawke. As for the Dalish word lethallin, it's basically used for friends. Anyway, I hope this was okay. Reviews and constructive criticism is appreciated. I'll see you guys later ^^


	3. What Hurts the Most

_**Location/Date: War Room (Skyhold) || Wednesday, The 15** _ _**th of August (9:41 Dragon)** _

The violent red stained his shaking hands. The color burned in his mind along with what he'd just done. Every time Cullen opened his mouth, Theron would just get angrier. The whites in his eyes turned to a pure black, and as his iris glowered green due to the Anchor hinted with red, his pupil turned slit to match that of an angry dragon. His holler reverberated in the commander's ears like a clap of thunder, such was his rage: a roar of pure anger. "You killed my clan, you bastard!"

Cullen removes his hand to reveal a busted bottom lip and a bloodied broken nose. "Your people attacked my men, Inquisitor! Right on sight, mind you!"

"Approaching in armor gives my clan the notion to defend themselves! I told you to order the men to not wear full armor! Because of that, you took out my family!"

"Well, we got our influence and point across in Wycome and surrounding settlements. If your clan wouldn't have been so provoked, they would still be alive now would they?"

Those words flew from Cullen's mouth that he never thought he'd even think, let alone say out loud. He knew instantly from the look in his eyes that they'd hit their mark. In that instant, their relationship shattered into glassy shards. Nothing would ever be the same again. "I-Inquisitor..."

Theron's eyes returned to normal and he leaves the war room. Cassandra approaches, but she saw her best friend and could read him. The guilt was like gasoline in his guts. His insides died slowly in the toxicity, needing no more than a spark to set it ablaze. The fire burnt him out so badly there was nothing left but a shell, an outline of a person. She angrily heads over to Cullen. "What have you done to him?"

The commander was being treated by one of the Chantry sisters and points to a letter on the war table. Cassandra picks it up and reads it.

_Commander Cullen,  
_ _Our group approached the Dalish camp in full armor to show the strength of the Inquisition.  
Unfortunately, the Dalish hunters took our arrivals as a threat and sounded an alarm.  
We defended ourselves and did not strike in malice, but lives were lost on both sides.  
We have found no survivors, but we took whatever supplies they had we can use to our advantage.  
_ _-Lieutenant Rozellene Chambreterre_

Cassandra was beyond pissed off. Varric takes the letter next and reads it, shaking his head. "Curly, you _really_ messed up. Seeker, what should we do next?"

"We need to let Theron have a couple days to himself to grieve."

* * *

_**~~Flashback #1 -**_ **_Date: 17th of Bloomingtide (9:32 Dragon)~~_ **

_Upon the forest floor so woven with ancient tree roots came a light filtered by the bouquet of foliage above: softened, verdant, and freshly aromatic. The sun's afternoon rays lit up the forest as the drizzle mingled on leaves. The bright treetop chirps echoed all around, creating a symphony unique to the eastern woodlands. The ferns formed a jubilant green sea that enveloped the pathway, their fronds dancing in the warm summery wind. Birdsong comes sweet and high, the soprano to the other sounds of the daytime. Not too far from the camp was the beautiful Amaranthine Sea. The sea, perfectly calm, was like a peaceful lake, and its soft murmurs were scarcely audible. The waves seemed to sleep with a line of darker blue marked the curve of the horizon._

_A 9-year-old Theron was panting and sweating. He was trying to become a worthy hunter like his father, but the bow he has been using was difficult thus far. His long upset-twisted ponytail braid was messy and now drenched in sweat that gleamed over the Andruil vallaslin on his face. Soon, his father returned...with a Raider Longbow. "Here. Now, you're forcing yourself too much, Theron. Have you already forgotten everything I've taught you?"_

_"Feynran." The two look to see a beautiful elf woman coming out of the aravel. Her fair skin was flawless with a hint of honey with the Ghilan'nain vallaslin on her forehead. Her beautiful gown is made of two layers of fabric: the first is a simple white cotton layer and the second layer is pure, tenuous white silk chiffon, embroidered with tendrils and hand embroidered with beautiful beads. The belt is made of an ivory and gold fabric and embroidered with ivory tendrils. Her long midnight hair was in loose twists, giving her a romantic look with her long pointed ears sticking out. "Our son needs encouragement. Don't be so harsh on him."_

_Feynran sighs. "I'm not trying to be too harsh on him, Nahari."_

_She approaches and kneels down to help Theron to his feet. "Now, da'len. Do you remember the_ Vir Tanadhal _?"_

_Theron shakes his head and Nahari laughs softly. Her soft, comforting voice was something that kept the young elf composed. He takes another arrow and gets into position. He inhales to keep steady. Feynran kneels down next as well, changing his tone to composed but gentle as well. "Relax your arm and clear your mind."_

_"Remember the_ Vir Tanadhal _, my son. The first is the_ Vir Assan _,_ The Way of the Arrow _. Be swift and silent, strike true, and do not waver. The second is the_ Vir Bor'assan _,_ The Way of the Bow _. As the sapling bends, so must you. In yielding, find resilience; in pliancy, find strength. And the last is the_ Vir Adahlen _,_ The Way of the Forest _. Receive the gifts of the hunt with mindfulness."_

 _Theron points his icy-lavender eyes to the bullseye, aiming his arrow. His father rubs his back. "Now, let Andruil guide your bow and shoot,_ da'assan (little arrow) _." He reopens his eyes and fires...the arrow hits the bullseye. He jumps up into his father's arms, hugging him and laughing._

* * *

_**Present Date/Time: Friday, The 17th of August || 2:20 PM** _

Theron was in his chambers. The nausea swirled unrestrained in his empty stomach. His head swam with half-formed regrets. His heart felt as if his blood had become like bricks as it struggled to keep a steady beat. His melancholy mood hung over him like a black cloud, raining his personal sorrow down on himself. The grief surged with every expelled breath, always reaching higher peaks, never sufficiently soothed by his long intakes of the damp autumn air.

"Theron...?" The elf knew the accented voice and sighs. "Come up, Cassandra..."

He was wearing a sand-colored linen fabric shirt with soft black pants and socks. Cassandra was holding a tray that had two tankards, a plate, and two bowls. She puts it on the nightstand. "I'm not hungry."

"I understand you still mourn, Theron. But you need to eat something." He was resistant, but he knew not to fight with Cassandra when it came to certain things. "If I have to toss you into a lake again while you were bare-naked, I will."

Theron chuckles softly at the memory. He was about the age of 12 when he and Cassandra first met. It was during the summer and he had stripped down during a really hot day and he was all by himself. The Seeker was 31 at the time and took some time away from Nevarra when Divine Justinia wanted the warrior to clear her mind after a brutal mission. She had spotted the elf and kicked him in the buttocks into the lake as a prank. Surprisingly enough, the two became close within a few days and whenever the warrior was able to take time from her work, she would spend time with Theron and his clan.

He had taught her the Dalish customs as well as the language, their history and everything else like that. She met the Keeper, his friends, and his family - the Ravenhearts. It was because of him that she had learned patience and harmony with herself and she thanks him for it. When he saw her anger a few times when they went on a few missions together, he knew to not intentionally piss her off.

Theron's stomach snarled and howled and from it came the not-so-subtle undertone of pain. It came in waves and it seemed as though his stomach was slowly digesting itself. His throat was very dry and sore, with every lungful of hot air robs more water from his body. Finally, he gives in and looks at the tray. There was red wine beef stew in one bowl with fresh mixed berries in the other and baked bread topped with melted goat cheese. In one tankard was fresh honey ale and the other was just fresh water. Theron started to eat slowly and Cassandra smiles softly.

As he slowly eats, Cassandra then does something special for Theron. She puts clear spring water into a separate large wide clear bowl and puts things in it that makes Theron's heart heal a little. She puts in various things that represented his family.

For his tender-hearted and sweet mother Nahari, Cassandra puts in a handful of sea lavender flowers and a large pink magnolia flower. For his strong-willed father Feynran, she puts in a small strip of oak tree bark and a small branch of sandalwood leaves. For his adventurous twin sister Athehari, she puts in a white rose and two strips of dried apple skins. And finally to represent where he was born, she puts in a pinch of sea salt and a red autumn leaf. She topped it all off with three small lit candles.

Theron catches the smell when the winds lifted the aromas and it brought him a sense of comfort. He puts his food down and goes to hug Cassandra. She rarely let anyone touch her in such a way, except for him. Her embrace was warm, and her arms seemed very protective when wrapped around his body. " _Ma serannas (Thank you)_ , Cass."

She pulls back after a minute, still offering a soft smile. "You are my best friend, Theron. I lost my older brother, Anthony, years ago, so I know how you feel. You know where I am should be need me, _lethallin_."

* * *

_**~~Flashback #2 -**_ _**Date: 14th of Solace (9:38 Dragon)~~** _

_The sand is softly golden with just the right comforting warmth. To rest on the beach feels like a cozy hug, one only matched by the sunshine filled sky. A female elf stretches out both arms and legs to look like a starfish, her grin growing slowly into a broad smile. The only marker of time today is the sun above, the moments savored by the waves that wash the sands in white lace._

_She remembered swimming in the turquoise ocean a few years ago. Floating in the void free of gravity. The ocean was something she loved, something she respected. She understood its beauty and its dangers. She found true fascination by the way the waves softly crashed against the beach, their curling fingers brushing each stone with a gentle caress as the wind ushered them gently towards the shore. The way the sun shone off the rippling water, its golden light warped in the twisted glass waves. No description can truly capture its mysterious majesty, yet only a few words can express its beauty. She closed her eyes to the lullaby of the ocean, breathing in its touching salty breath._

_"Athehari, are you daydreaming again?"_

_She gasps and opens her eyes wide, quickly sitting up. "_ Isa'ma'lin (Brother) _! Stop doing that to me!"_

_While her twin brother held those icy-lavender eyes, hers was a silver tone: brilliant and bright - silver like the wolf that cried to the moon._

_Theron chuckles and he sits down right next to Athehari in the sand. The twins were really close and would give their life for the other to protect each other. The 15-year-old Theron rubs his sister's back. "What is it? Is it about Dayrahel?"_

_The name he mentions was betrothed to Athehari. The two have always wanted to be together and now that it was close for them to be bound for life, she was nervous. "Just a little. I'm glad that we're to be bonded soon, but...the expectations of it..."_

_Theron knew what she was asking. He rubs her back a little more before he picks up a seashell not too far from him. She was in awe at its beauty; it was bigger than a starfish, white and gold - spirally and beautiful with sparkling purple flecks. "Put it up to your ear."_

_Athehari does and blocks everything. The daydream blossomed like a spring flower, unfurling a delicate petal at a time. The sun was a radiant, all-watching eye, its light creeping into every corner, bathing the whole world in a warm glow. She was dreaming of a grassy, forest green hills looming over the mountainous hike - an endless expanse of turquoise wonder, shimmering a liquid gold that stretched towards the distant horizon. "Open fields of gold I can imagine in the countryside somewhere...Dayrahel and I happily together on a lakeside farm...with four children..."_

_Theron chuckles. "Well, imagine that every night leading to the wedding and then, when you two are alone, just think of your children one day."_

_Athehari sighs softly and just holds the seashell close to her heart. "I'll think on it, Theron."_

_"Good. Also, I talked to him earlier and he promised me to treat you with upmost respect or I'll be paying a visit."_

_"Theron Ravenheart!"_

_He takes her hands into his and squeezes them softly before caressing her cheek. "_ Ma ane ma asa'ma'lin. Ar lath ma (You are my sister. I love you) _. I'll gut him myself should he raise a hand to you or do anything to hurt you. Do you hear me?"_

_Athehari nuzzles into her brother's hand before hugging him close. There was something so warm, something that felt right, smelt right. She lets her body sag, her muscles become loose. Theron gave her the respect of an equal but cradled her like he did when they were younger and treated her like she was cherished. "Thank you, brother."_

_He pulls back and kisses her forehead. "No need to thank me. We're twins and nothing shall keep us apart."_

_They then say this simultaneously. "_ Sule din (Until death) _."_

 _They head back to the camp._ _After a minute, Dayrahel approaches them. He was a skilled hunter indeed since he trained with Theron and Feynran._ _His hair was like swirls of buttermilk in a normal tribal braid with a few dangling strands with the navy vallaslin designed of June, the god of craft, on his face. His eyes were like radiating fire in water, if you can imagine such a thing. His armor was fashioned from deerskin, embossed with designs of hunting hawks; his gloves was also deerskin cut thicker for the index and middle finger, so it would withstand heavy use; his boots was made from soft deerskin, perfect for hunters stalking their prey._

_Dayrahel's sudden blush seared through his cheeks and for a minute, he thought his face was on fire. "Hey, Athehari. I thought I could make you happy by getting these for you as gifts before our bonding."_

_Athehari was surprised. It was a bowl filled with water, but there was a massive white rose-scented candle that was lit and small crystal grace flowers were surrounding it smelling like rich apples. There was also her ring: a leaf-designed rose gold band with a lotus flower, the middle holding a pure ruby gemstone. "This is so beautiful, Dayrahel._ Ma serannas (Thank you) _."_

 _Dayrahel kisses her cheek and puts the ring on her finger before he looks up at Theron. "_ Ar dirtha'var'en (I promise) _. I_ will _make your sister happy."_

* * *

_**Present Date/Time: Friday, The 1st of Kingswa** **y || 12:35 PM** _

It has been a fortnight since the loss of his clan, but Theron was starting to work through his sadness. Cassandra helped him train and he drank with Iron Bull and his Chargers while retelling past memories that made him laugh. All the while, he was returning to his duties as Inquisitor at the war table and Dorian has been watching him from afar. He's never seen someone break down before and seeing Theron slowly recover from such trauma was just amazing to him.

He was walking around when from across the bridge he hears a familiar sound. A loud bugling startles all of Skyhold and Cassandra walks up. "What the hell was that?"

Theron has everyone stand down and inhales deeply before he puts his hands to the sides of his mouth and mimics the sound himself very loudly followed with a chuckle sound. After a minute, the sound is heard again and he goes to walk under the gate to the fortress and mimics it again.

A white blur is seen and he knew exactly what it was: a beautiful halla - though it was bigger than normal halla and its antlers was like that of a Red Hart. It was carrying a large backpack and there was also a sling around its neck...it was moving. And Theron was surprised to see the sling holding a sleeping infant...with his sister's pendant around the neck. There was also a letter with it that read:

_Theron, it's me...Athehari.  
I escaped the slaughter, but our entire clan didn't make it._   
_I'll die in Redcliffe. The baby I send you is my daughter.  
She was born on the 14th of August._   
_I shall be with the Creators soon...  
Take care of Sayuri for me...and know that we'll be watching._

Theron gives the letter to Cassandra and asks a few members to get his belongings before picking up his niece and having Master Dennet take the halla to the stables.

Sayuri was wrapped in a beautifully luxurious cream, chocolate-accented fox fur blanket and once moved, she opens her eyes and looks up at her uncle. Her tiny hands were more delicate as she wraps her tiny fingers around his pinky finger. She feels so light, looks so perfect, and smells so divine. He was now her protector for as long as he'd live and his love for her will last for all time. Her eyes were a soft midnight-grey, but with the hint of a lustrous translucent opal.

Theron holds Sayuri against his chest, his heartbeat putting the little girl to sleep. He sheds tears again, but this time, they were tears of happiness. While he had lost most of his clan, this little miracle was given to him by the Creators to help grant him some comfort. Cassandra then rubs his back. "Don't worry. I promise that things will get better."


	4. Hope With A Spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing fighting/battle scenes are not my personal strength. A lot of research for medieval stuff (to make the world of Thedas feel a little more realistic) went into this chapter. I hope it's okay.

_**Location: Lost Spring Canyon Camp (Western Approach, Orlais)** _   
_**Date: Wednesday, The 13th of Kingsway (9:41 Dragon)** _

The cruel sun beat down, its one malevolent eye unblinking and the sky was its co-conspirator with not even a wisp of cloud to soften the harsh rays. The lizards took shelter in the shadows of the rocks - where the sand was not hot enough to roast them, but there was no shade large enough for the group. With the searing sand, the air was thick and hazy and each breath for Theron was like drowning in lava.

Scout Harding greets them; her usually neat brown hair was messy. "Inquisitor! Welcome to the Western Approach and...congratulations on the promotion by the way. With the heavy sandstorms and vicious wildlife, we haven't gotten really far out here. One of my men was too close to a poison hot spring and gave me quite a delirious report of a high dragon flying overhead. In short: this might be the worst place in all of Thedas. Please, be careful out there."

They all get to a high point of the hill close to them to get a good view of the Approach. The huge, golden sun beamed down over the edge of the barren world and a good people were already feeling the extreme heat getting to them.

Solas was clearly irritated and sighs. "This is when I appreciate learning the magic to prevent sunburn on a bald head."

Theron looks at Cole. He had come to care for the spirit after getting to know him and seeing him comfort his niece at Skyhold was really meaningful, bringing them closer together as if they were brothers. "What is it, Cole?"

His glacier eyes were ice cold, that they knew no warmth and never shared love. But looking at the dark circles underneath them, the young spirit had suffered too much and Theron wished he could do more. He looks around as he scans the seemingly endless desert. "Very old voices. I can barely hear them..."

Vivienne ignores Cole and looks at Theron. "So, what is your plan, Inquisitor?"

Theron turns back at Vivienne. "We close what rifts we can and send word to Skyhold about the poisonous springs. We'll split up to gather logging stands and quarries as well as try to find the Venatori wherever they may be hiding."

Cassandra was surprised by the suggestion. "Are you sure, Theron?"

"We'll get more grounded if we all split up."

* * *

Over the course of the day, the group all assist in closing the rifts and setting up banners to fix the issue of the poisonous springs. Soon enough, the shadows grow twice as long as the group themselves, the air was beginning to cool down as they set up camp at Craggy Ridge. After starting up the fire and setting up desks for requisitions as well as potions, the tents are put up and they all respectfully go into their own: one for the Inquisition soldiers with the requisition officer, one for Vivienne with Cassandra, Sera with Bull, Varric with Blackwall, Solas with Cole, and Dorian with Theron.

Theron removes his gloves and the shirt of his scout armor. When doing so, his hair turn into long strands now ending at his slim waist. His silken-black hair is poker straight that frame his sharp, heart-shaped face perfectly. His body is toned as any man, but he's still slim. His icy eyes were slightly dull due to exhaustion.

Dorian couldn't turn away from the elf, feeling his cheeks burn up a little bit. He looks even better without the heavy dark makeup... But he snaps out of it and goes to drink some water from his leather canteen.

Theron rolls his eyes as he could tell Dorian was looking at him. "Dorian...it just occurred to me that I hardly know anything about you."

The mage swallows his water and closes the canteen. "You mean...beyond me being from Tevinter?"

"Of course. Did I stutter?"

Dorian chuckles; the sarcasm from Theron was quite charming. "Even beyond me obviously charming and well-dressed?"

He leans in close to the mage. "I'm quite aware of your finer qualities, believe me."

"Of course I believe you, Theron. As soon as I saw you, I thought to myself _"There's a man who knows quality"_. So what do you wish to ask me?"

"Do you...consider yourself Andrastian?"

"Ah...the big question. Let me say this. While I may not believe in the Chantry..." Whenever Theron was just feet away back at Skyhold, Dorian would stop and just gaze, soaking in the warmth of his eyes. This is what he's dreamt of, just the two of them, finally alone. After a moment of hesitation, Dorian raises his hand to Theron's cheek. The gesture seemed to comfort the elf. "...but I believe _in you_. You are what we needed most at the moment we needed it. That's what they'll say in ages to come. The world is bigger than I, even bigger than you. It laughs at all the things we think we know."

Dorian then yanks his hand back. "My apologies."

Theron rolls his eyes. " _Ma nuvenin (As you wish). Hamin (Relax)..._ "

The Tevinter looks back at the Dalish. He's never heard elves speak another language and it was soothing to listen to. "What...did you say? You may need to translate that for me."

"I told you to calm down basically. You touching my cheek...it doesn't bother me."

"What? The high and mighty Inquisitor doesn't mind a touch by the handsome Tevinter? I'm shocked indeed."

"You always have to make snark remarks whenever I say something? Or are my ears playing tricks on me?"

Dorian shakes his head while smiling. ' _Someone who can keep up with me? That's a first._ ' After a moment, the mage shakes his head and turns back to the elf. "Not always. Anyway, mind...if I...take you out sometime after settling back at Skyhold?"

Theron blushes a little bit. He's never dated anybody before and he didn't know what to think at first. He daren't move nor did he even breathe; he was frozen at the spot, feeling his heart pounding heavily in his chest while his cheeks flush to a soft pink color. Dorian was truly shocked this time and lowers his voice to a whisper. "Wait...you're a virgin, aren't you?"

The blush intensifies and the elf nods. "Yes, I am... We Dalish, we bond with a single partner for life. So, I was taught to not take this kind of stuff lightly..."

Dorian nodded at that. "I understand. I don't know much about your people. Think we can talk about that after this Venatori business?"

"I'd...like that very much, Dorian." There was something about the way Theron smiled; the way butterflies seemed to escape from the pit of his stomach and the way the sun had somehow toppled down from the sky and made a home right there in his heart. He had the kind of smile that made Dorian feel happy to be alive and just that little bit more human.

Soon enough, Theron falls asleep to calm down for the night. His heart thumped in accordance with slow, shallow breaths. Serenity was plastered across his face as he slept. At peace, his consciousness swirled in the land of dreams, oblivious to the physical world.

Dorian looks down at Theron and felt this... _need_...to protect and comfort the young elf. He reaches over to stroke the elf's long silken hair, earning a soft moan as a response. He smiles and keeps doing it until he gets tired himself and goes to sleep, unknowingly wrapping an arm around Theron.

* * *

**_Location: Unknown_ **

_Solas wakes up in a grassy meadow dotted by petite, fragrant daisies. Their sunshiny centers grinned at him while a soft breeze ruffled the white petals. In awe, he turns around to see little pink butterflies lazily flitting around the lush grass and dipping their tiny feet into a clear, bubbling brook. The sky was a deep blue and an occasional cloud would bounce across the heavens like a dancing sheep. With a sigh, he wistfully stares upwards as the sun basked my face in its yellow rays of glory._

_Solas then sees a unique staff that didn't belong to him. "Another dreamer, it seems."_

_The staff was 86 inches tall. It was made of strong obsidian with the bottom ending in the shape of a wolfs head, wrapped with silver leaf-like ornaments in an intricate swirling pattern. Thick, decorative extensions protrude at several points along the staff including the handle, which has been decorated with a crosshatched cord. The top is made out of white marble crafted into the shape of a smooth crescent moon, which has been decorated with bright crystals place in such a way that they mimic a red flame in their appearance._

_He sees an elf, a female Dalish, sitting at a small pond. She was wearing a gown made of black cotton with the long sleeves completely lined with silver crash-taffeta. It also has hand-painted silver roses, and the neckline is accented with silver-glass beads. She was singing. Her voice rolled over the hills in sorrowful waves. Swells of power rose up in her throat. It was like was music - graceful with the haunting feeling of knowing that her voice was brought out in a fit of rage, of pain. Her hand went to her heart and her head rose as she belted out the final notes._

_"_ Ma ema a ina'lan'ehn lahn (You have such a beautiful voice), lethallin. _"_

_She turns to look at Solas, who was slightly surprised when she looked at him. She looks just like Theron with the long silken hair as black as the midnight sky and sand-beige skin tone, but the features were softer with rose lips and silver, wolf-like eyes. The vallaslin was different as well. Theron has the complex design for Mythal; this female has the design of Ghilan'nain on her forehead._

_"I appreciate your comment. Though I didn't know I would encounter another dreamer here - especially my safe place. Do you need something?"_

_"I was hoping to find some more knowledge in the Fade while sleeping. But I found you instead. My name is Solas."_

_"I am Athehari Ravenheart. And...knowledge on what exactly?"_

_"Just anything really. But, your energy...it's high here. I can sense your real self...and you've been hurt. Where are you?"_

_"I've been captured by the Venatori. I'm pretending to have passed out due to exhaustion because of the heat when it's really their abuse on my body. This has been my sanctuary to escape to, thanks to spirits of valor and compassion. My body is in a dark cell under the keep...I think."_

_"You're in luck,_ lethallin _. The Inquisition is in the Approach. We'll be storming the keep once we make haste. We're here on business to stop the Venatori and claim the keep so that our forces can move out there."_

_Athehari was relieved. It has been so long that she's seen a friendly face to save her. She then remembers something. "Good. Is there...a man named Theron with you by any chance?"_

_Solas offers a soft smile. "He leads the Inquisition and I work with him."_

_Her silver eyes looked as if they have had been encased inside of small glass marbles. "My brother...survived the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes? Are you sure?"_

_When Solas nodded, little water droplets streamed down Athehari's cheeks. "I'm glad to hear that my brother lives. But...the Venatori are relentless. I cannot speak more here or they'll use my powers to eliminate threats... I need your help. Don't leave me to these vermin, Solas. You, my brother, Cassandra, and the Inquisition... I can't take their abuse much longer. Promise me..."_

_Her hands were frailty and caution, shaking gently as Solas takes them and holds them. He then closes his eyes and presses his forehead against hers. "I promise,_ lethallin _. As soon as we march, we'll be coming for the keep. I also give my word to protect your brother as well."_

* * *

_**~~The Next Morning, 6:20 AM~~** _

Dorian slowly opens his eyes. He's never had such a comfortable sleep for quite some time. He sees Theron still asleep next to him and caresses his hair gently before whispering. "Sleep a little longer." Out of pure instinct, he leans down to kiss the elf's cheek softly before leaving the tent.

Thankfully, Cassandra was awake and cooking a large hyena on a spit over the crackling fire. She sees him and nods to him. "Why are you up so early, Cassandra?"

"I'm always up early to start my day. Why?"

"I was hoping...we can talk in private."

Cassandra cocks an eyebrow at him, but she nodded. "You're lucky that most of the others had split up to deal with the Venatori now that the springs have been contained properly. Theron has done much of the hard work and he deserves some extra rest. So, what is it?"

"Can you...tell me more about Theron? He told me a few things in the tent last night, but I didn't wish to pry. Plus, I...feel rather attracted to him..."

Cassandra almost choked on her water, but she quickly regains her composure. Theron was basically her little brother and didn't want anything to happen to him on her watch. "You sure? He's only 18 years of age."

"I didn't even know he was that young, but yes. I'm sure. Umm...what kind of food does Theron like? I wanna...spend time with him after this."

Cassandra then writes down a note before she gives it to Dorian. "Theron has a sweet tooth and loves anything spicy. As for drinks, he prefers sweet red wine and honey ale above anything else."

Dorian reads the list: baked pears topped with brown sugar, wild hunter's stew, chocolate biscuit cake, fresh sourdough bread, fried fish, honey-glazed ham, many tropical fruits mostly, rich goat cheese, roasted chicken, smoked turkey legs, spicy rabbit stew, baked venison pastries, white rose coffee pudding, wild green salad, and wild boar stew. He was surprised. "He really is different from others. More meat dishes than anything."

Cassandra chuckles. "Not always, Dorian. Just...take things slow with him and don't rush it. If you wish to pursue a romance with Theron...nothing wrong with that. You harm him in any way though, I'll shove your ass onto a spike. Got it?"

Dorian eyes her closely. "I promise to _never_ let him come to harm, Cassandra. That I can most definitely promise you."

Then, Vivienne comes out of the tent she shared with Cassandra and sits down on the soft sand. The enchanter's skin was as rich and deep as any stately home mahogany and her eyes were the color of hot chocolate; she was also wearing custom battlemage armor Theron designed for her as well as her staff.

Her staff was 68 inches of smooth maidenwood with an intricate intertwining metal cord that forms a decorative piece that stops just above the handle, which has been wrapped in exotic phoenix scales. The bottom ends in an elongated marquise shape made of maidenwood as well. The top is made out of grand wood, crafted into a shape similar to a blooming rose with a large glittering ice crystal in the center and the "petals" were embedded with opals, seeming to live and thrive on her magical powers.

As for Vivienne's armor, it was a steel-backed leather corset dyed white and purple with an undershirt that trailed behind her for a yard for a fancy elegant look; her black pants were fine with mild steel greaves on her knees and black leather boots with steel rivets and her scarf-like gorget was the color of wine with shiny golden buckles.

Dorian sees her and smiles. "Good morning, Vivienne."

"Darling, your face is glowing. I wonder why..."

The Tevinter blushes softly and turns away from her gaze. " _Kaffas (Shit)!_ "

"Peeping onto our beloved Inquisitor isn't a wise choice."

"What or _who_ I pursue is none of your business."

"Are you two going at it again?" They turn to see Varric, Sera, and Iron Bull return.

Varric's blonde hair was unruly; thrown back into a messy pony tail at the base of his head. His hair from the slightly layered cut wasn't included in the pony tail, but they framed his face nicely. His eyes were a brilliant hazel; they were warm, lively, and sparkled with mirth.

Sera's hair that was cropped short was the most pale blonde possible, each strand almost translucent when seen on its own. How her eyes shone beautifully under the sunlight, they were of those mischievous icy hues of a summer field of wild flowers.

Iron Bull's skin was like molten silver, swirling in steady and radiating ripples with savage tribal tattoos on his right shoulder; his obsidian dragon-like horns were sharp and smooth. His eyes were like a clear lake in a dark forest. If you looked closer at that lake, you'd see a round shallow crevice filled with completely transparent water.

He checks the hyena and seeing the meat was cooked thoroughly, he takes off the animal's front leg and bites into it. "Where's Boss?"

Dorian looks at Bull as he cuts off part of the hyena for himself. "Still asleep. We figured since he's been doing a lot of the dirty work, we can give him a break."

He nodded before he then decides to change the subject. "Hey, Varric, are you gonna write me into one of your stories?"

The dwarf gets a sip of water down before answering him. "Well, how could I not?"

"When you do, make sure you describe the musculature right. Cause this isn't just endurance work—there was a lot of strength training to get here. You wanna use words like "rippling" or "ripped." "Ripped" is good."

Varric thinks for a moment. "Hmm... The Iron Bull's belly was prone to rippling after every meal. He rarely wore shirts as they ripped under the strain."

Everyone, but Bull, began to titter and soon, the ripples of laughter became great waves of hilarity. "That hurts, Varric. That's hurtful."

They talk for awhile. Blackwall and Solas soon get back as well. The bearded warrior wipes the sweat off his forehead and grabs some meat for himself. "We got all the quarries and logging stands down. Also, the cave tunnels filled with spiders were not welcoming though."

Theron's eyes lazily rolled open, glazed over with with the remnants of a dream.

Cassandra then smiles at him when he comes out, his hair in its true length flowing with the wind. "Good morning, Theron."

"Hey Cass." Not caring, he steps outside and the others - except Cassandra - were shocked by the hair.

Vivienne comes over to examine a couple of his long strands. "My dear Inquisitor. Long luscious black hair. How did you get it to grow like that?"

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, letting the enchanter touch his hair. "Good diet and proper hygiene. Also, where's Cole?"

Solas answers with a shrug. "He found something and took off. Not sure where to though."

* * *

_**Location: Old Well (Beneath Griffon Wing Keep) || 9:45 AM** _

A gaping hole in the mountain, littered with tiny sparkling crystals not unlike the stars of the night sky, yet it was so mysterious... Inside the cavern, darkness was eternity. The temperature had dropped, sending violent chills down her spine; sunlight reaches neither wall nor ceiling.

Athehari's sense of self, once a high and proud feeling of one destined for good things, now felt as bruised as her abdomen and as broken as a mirror. She wiped the dried blood from her pallid skin and her own bloodshot silver eyes looked empty. Her skin had ruptured above the growing purple blooms and every movement hurt. Purple welts were scattered across her abdomen like a disease. It hurt to breath and she knew that some of her ribs were cracked; bloody spit drooled from her slack jaw. Her face still bears congealed blood and her dress was in an utter mess. Her chapped, split lips were blue with cold and her teeth chattered. What should have been long, glossy, full black strands was now a fractious mess of thin tangles dulled by the dried blood, sweat, and tears.

"Cold like ice, bloodied, bruised... You're hurting everywhere, but too weak to heal the hurt yourself. He misses you every day so very much...especially since a large seashell you two shared would make your dreams come true."

Athehari looks up after hearing such a calm yet young voice. "A spirit of compassion..."

She reaches up...only to feel his such warm hands gently grab onto her own. "Please...don't leave me like this..."

Cole felt her pain much stronger than anything he ever has before. He then decides to slowly have the elf sit up so that she would be in his embrace until the others would arrive. "I am Cole. You are Athehari. Strange name and yet it's...comforting to hear. He called you _asa'malin_ and the others called you _da'evune_."

Athehari nuzzles his chest softly. "Theron always called me 'sister' while Father just said my name and Mother called me her 'little moon' because of my eyes. M-My brother...is he on his way?"

Cole nodded softly. "He is. He and all of our friends will be here very soon."

She sniffles softly as she starts to settle down in the spirit's embrace. "Good. I...can't stand this anymore... I really can't..."

* * *

Theron, with the group and a large detachment of the Inquisition on standby, was closing in on Griffon Wing Keep - all on their mounts. Theron examines the keep from afar while mounted on the back of his halla with Dorian sitting right behind him.

A great gate with heavy metal doors surrounded two golden griffon statues on each side, the walls fortified with chunky spikes made of black stone and four massive stone towers were also looking out and walls mounted with artilliery and trebuchets.

Soon, the thundering of hooves broke the silence at the keep as the horses, harts, and war nugs galloped through the bleak desert. The wind wisped the horses' manes into the air like flames. The animals' muscles rippled from under their freshly groomed pelts and powerful legs as they propelled forward. Theron has his bow ready while mounted on his halla, Melrose. She bugles out loud and runs very fast as her rider turns back to face his friends. "Inquisition! Shall we knock?!"

Blackwall raised his sword and shield while mounted on his skeletal horse, the Oath-Bound Steed. "It would be my pleasure!"

Iron Bull smirked as he raised his two-handed axe while mounted on his war nug, the Knuckled Thunderer. "Oh yeah!"

Sera, meanwhile, was actually standing on Bull's horns and readies an arrow. "Kick it, Inky!"

Theron was surprised at Sera giving him a nickname, but he shrugs it off and returns to concentrating.

Cassandra clashes her sword against her shield while mounted on her hart, the Red Hart. "Gladly!"

The Venatori see the Inquisitor. "To arms! Destroy the Inquisition!"

Sera jumps off the Qunari's horns and fires three powerful shots, straight and on target. The arrow had entered one enemy through the eye socket. It was dark red, pooling with blood, already blackening. Some brain matter had exploded from the back of his skull and splattered onto the concrete. The body had slumped to the floor like some ungainly life-sized doll. "Bits up, face down!"

Iron Bull goes blood-drunk and goes at slaying Venatori violently. He critically strikes, causing a gory mess and sending nearby enemies into a panic. "Next!"

Blackwall raises his shield that Theron custom-made for him. His impressive pointed kite shield was made of hard black steel. The shield's edges are augmented with layered metal scales and have been decorated with a scaly texture. Its center is embellished with a symbol of the Grey Wardens, a rearing griffon. He doesn't even flinch, blink, or back down as he rushes towards two enemies that stagger before slashing them with his sword. "Done and done!"

Through faith and will, Cassandra dispels all hostile magic from the area around her. She then uses her own shield to bash into enemies. At once a fountain of red came from the wound, the ebb and flow in time with a terrified heart, killing the man all the faster. "Maker take you!"

Vivienne and Solas both run up the stairs of the fortress, her staff quite active. Vivienne surrounds herself with the magic of the Veil itself before summoning a freezing blizzard to chill and kill two enemies at once. "Goodnight!"

On the other hand, Solas recreates his own fist from the essence of the Fade and smashes nearby foes to the ground, managing to kill another. "Away with you!"

Varric fires his crossbow so quickly that enemies will swear there are duplicates of him shooting arrows into their ranks before it explodes. "One more for me!"

Dorian curses an enemy, inflicting ongoing spirit damage, and then triggers the curse into a devastating explosion. Blood and guts spill all over with sickening determination. "Haha, I could do this all day!"

Theron dives out of trouble and fire a hail of arrows at the enemies that were trying to close with him, killing three more enemies. "More down!"

Panting and sweating, the group runs up the final stairs and stops when they spot a spellbinder mage, Prelate Macrinus. He was a junior member of the Venatori and extremely dangerous. His facial hair was thick, although not quite a beard many men grew. His eyes were black, soulless and looking lifeless. Theron was about to fire, but when the mage pulls out a beaten girl close to him by the hair with a knife pressing at her throat.

Theron stops as he recognized her and his angry grew at the mage, aiming an arrow. "Let her go!"

Macrinus says nothing and was about to end her, but suddenly a rather large rift opens up and several black fireballs rains down onto the mage, beginning to burn him and he throws the elf far to the side. Then, twin daggers pieces through Macrinus's mouth from behind; it was Cole, who slowly withdraws his bloody blades. "You will _never_ harm her again."

"Raise the flag!" Theron sheathes his bow and runs to Athehari, gently pulling her into his arms. "Athehari!"

Iron Bull sounds the horn and Blackwall raises the flag. Cheers of victory come from the incoming Inquisition forces who then get into the keep, clearing out the Venatori bodies and setting up to their standards.

Theron gets Athehari into a tent, but when moving her, the clothes move and the extension of her physical appearance was shocking. Athehari's body was more skeletal than anything, barely any fat on her at all. Her legs were thin as twigs, her chest so frail, the bump of each rib was visible underneath her skin. Her face was so sunken in, the intense outline of her skull was detectable under the pale and bruised skin. She was extremely weak and so tousled by the wind, her long thinning hair looked matted and dull; her bloodshot eyes also had heavy dark bags underneath them.

Vivienne was boiling inside as she examined Athehari, who was now inside of a tent laying down in a tall cot. "This is so sickening. Who would commit such barbaric acts to anybody?"

Athehari coughs softly. "The Venatori...they wanted information out of me... They wanted me..." She sheds more tears. "...they wanted me to use my skills as a dreamer...go into the Fade...and kill Theron, my own twin brother, in his sleep. I couldn't do it..." Her eyes turn to Theron as her bottom lip quivered. " _Ar ame so abelas (I am so sorry)._ "

He pulls his sister to a gentle hug. "Shhh, Athehari. You were tortured into submission and they were trying to make you do something you didn't want to. Do not blame yourself for that. You're in safe hands now."

Theron then helps Vivienne wash his sister's body and hair. People thought this was inappropriate, but Theron wasn't perverted and his presence helped Athehari feel comforted and safe. Once done and put into a clean dress, she's laid back down on a cot and covered in a large blanket made from a queen snow rabbit's fur. He then helps give his sister some water and caresses Athehari's hair gently. The others were fixing weapons or taking a break in general.

Captain Rylen had to speak with Theron in private and he asks Dorian to watch his sister. Athehari could see him staring at the Inquisitor with the eyes she knew all too well and despite her being weak, she could still crack up a conversation and speak fluently. "You're watching my brother, I see. With _great_ admiration, I might add."

Dorian blushes as he snaps out of his gaze and looks at her. "N-N-No, I'm not."

She giggles softly; it was like a stone bouncing across a glossy lake, creating ripples of mirth where there had been none. "I was not born yesterday, Dorian. You're falling in love with my brother and there's nothing wrong with that."

Dorian's brown eyes meet Athehari's silver orbs. "I wanna take him out on a date. Any ideas? And also, your brother...what's he like when around just you?"

Athehari sits up in the bed slightly. "Theron's charming in a natural way - very relaxed and warm, which made him well-loved by our clan. He's also very sensitive and he can also read others easily and can see right through them. He's also fiercely independent as well as unpredictable at times. He once threatened to snap my ex-husband's neck should he ever had hurt me. Despite that, Theron's a very passionate person and extremely protective of those he cares about."

Dorian was surprised. Theron and him shared personalities, which may make things a little easier. "I also...kissed his cheek earlier and held his face. He wasn't bothered by it and no, I don't delve in blood magic. He seemed...to have that gleam in his eyes when I touched him."

Athehari extends her hands and Dorian scoots over to hold them with his own. "You have a strong impact on him. But...you're holding back verbally, Dorian. _Show_ him how much you care for him with action and he'll open up to you some more. Also, we never had this conversation." She finally ends the topic with a playful wink at the mage.

The Tevinter smiles at her softly. "Thanks, A-At-Ata-Hare-i."

She chuckles at hearing him trying to pronounce her name as she fully lays back down. "Just call me Arte."

He nodded. Soon enough, Theron returns to the tent. "The water supply here has been secure and all camps are set up with all logging stands and quarries marked. We'll be heading back to Skyhold shortly."

Dorian excused himself to help the others get onto their mounts with a carriage with a few guards for protection. With that, the group begins to leave the desert. While riding the halla back, Theron and Dorian - without the others seeing this - they finally hold hands and interlock their fingers.

* * *

_**Location: Skyhold (Frostback Mountains in Ferelden)** _   
_**Date: Wednesday, The 27th of Kingsway (9:41 Dragon)** _

Theron has carried Athehari to his quarters to have her rest up. Over the course on the way back from the Western Approach, the young female's bruises has healed as well as her gaining a little bit of weight back and her hair becoming more voluminous. She was still, however, too weak to walk.

When Theron gently hands her Sayuri, Athehari choked on tears and takes her daughter into her arms. "She's healthy and safe... Thank you, Theron."

"Inquisitor Lavellan?" Theron looks to see Josephine, the ambassador, come to his quarters. Perfect ringlets piled on her head with a few soft spirals about her face. It would have looked great in any color, on anyone, but black hair against her ebony skin was perfection. She was wearing a gold satin dress with a slightly-sheer, cream-colored blouse and sash. Her iris was a large stain of wood and ebony pigment. Its size gave it a sense of innocence and purity, where you can see all the buried kindness eclipsed behind the saturated color of fine, exquisite oud.

There was some sort of goodness in her eyes, which tells you that no matter what she did, their intention will never carry any hint of malevolence or malignity whatsoever. The kindness may not be necessarily be shown or exposed. But if you look closely, you can reveal all the mysteries that are hidden in the deep beds of those big, brown eyes. "I presume this is your twin sister?"

"Yes. Athehari, this is Josephine Montilyet. She's the Inquisition's ambassador and chief diplomat."

The young diplomat gave a small bow to the elf. " _Andaran atish'an_."

Athehari bows back. "I thank you for the hospitality. I promise to offer my services to my brother's cause once I fully heal."

"No need to rush, my lady. You deserve your rest. With your leave, Inquisitor." She bows again before heading back downstairs.

Theron sighs as he puts more firewood into the hearth. "I'll have your room get set up. I love you, sister."

The siblings embrace each other. "I love you too." They let their foreheads touch one last time and say simultaneously. " _Sule din (Until death)._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't know, Athehari (Theron's twin sister) has survived but just barely. She's also a rift mage and dreamer. In Inquisition - if Cole becomes more human - he gets into a relationship with the bard Maryden; he is gonna end up being with Athehari instead.
> 
> She's also gonna become a personal consultant to Dorian, who shows his feelings towards Theron for the first time in this chapter. Arte is also Athehari's nickname; I chose this after watching Arte, an anime that came out last year (2020).


	5. For Those In My Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the end of this chapter, Dorian and Theron will finally kiss. Next chapter, I'm gonna do some justice and introduce the Heroes of Ferelden - all 7 of them since there's 6 origin characters to chose from. Inquisition brought back old characters and Hawke, but not our hero and that pissed many fans off - me included.

_**Location: Skyhold (Bedroom Quarters)** _   
_**Date: Sunday, The 1st of Harvestmere** _

"You're really gonna cut my hair, Athehari?"

Theron has finished bathing and getting dressed into just black cotton pants as well as socks. His black hair was silken, but it was matted and tangled in various places after the Western Approach and the trip back to Skyhold. Athehari has remarkably recovered quite a bit from her ordeal and Cole has grown on her and her daughter. Sayuri has slept a lot better, thanks to the spirit's presence.

"Theron. It may be clean, but all of these tangles and matts are ridiculous. Plus, the split ends are a nuisance."

He sighs and shakes his head at his sister's sense of hair fashion. "Ugh... Fine. Just don't cut it all off." He then sits down on the floor and crosses his legs before letting his sister get started. Athehari separates her twin's hair into separate sections. Slowly, one handful of stands at a time, she cuts the mats and tangles. As she finishes the first section, the bedroom door opens up and a voice rings. "You two kids awake up there? We have food!"

Athehari chuckles. "Come on up, guys!"

Iron Bull brings a massive breakfast platter for the siblings and he was followed by everyone, except Solas and Leliana. He laughs at the sight as he puts the platter on the desk. "Boss getting a hair cut? Surprising but pretty ridiculous seeing like this."

Vivienne perks her legs up on the couch against the rail, eating a couple of juicy grapes. "You're surprisingly efficient at handling the hair, my dear." Athehari shrugs as she then uses a scented oil in the strands she cut to moisturize them. Vivienne smells it and wrinkles her nose. "What scent is that, my dear?"

"I made scented oils back home. This is my most famous recipe that sold well with the noblewomen in the Free Marches. It's lavender, a pinch of cinnamon, crystal grace flowers, and gooseberries. It keeps your hair healthy and helps it grow back quite quickly. I'm working on a recipe to help with men who want healthy facial hair as well."

Josephine cuts up the food into even quantity for everyone. There was fried eggs, crispy toast with strawberry jam, smooth tomato basil soup, and various cooked meats. For Theron and Dorian to share, they decided on spicy venison pastries. "I bet they paid you a good amount for that."

"The money saved...I left it back home. Theron, while you're there...please retrieve it and...get whatever our clan left behind if you can..."

Theron felt the sadness swell up and he nodded, holding back tears. Dorian felt the tension and takes hold of his hand, caressing it with his thumb. Soon enough, Athehari finishes the cutting and puts more oil in before taking him off the bed to the tub to rinse it all out.

The Tevinter takes a bite of the pastry. "I have to ask something for you, Blackwall. I overheard you at the tavern, asking about Theron and I."

The Warden takes a large gulp of golden lager from his tankard. "I was unsure if I'd heard correctly."

"You have a question? Are your whiskers quivering with curiosity?"

Varric chuckles and Blackwall shakes his head. "I would not pry into the Inquisitor's business."

Dorian then pulls out a sheet of paper - it was crisp and clean, not a mark on its almost sparkling surface. Brand new edges so straight and sharp even a sword could not be compared to its glistening beauty. He also pulls out a reed pen and a roll of paper, smirking. "Are you certain? I can draw diagrams."

Cullen snorts, trying to hide his laughter and not choke on his water. Blackwall shakes his head again as a flush appeared on his cheeks. Was he embarrassed? "No. Thank you."

Athehari and Theron return a minute later, the male elf drying his hair with a towel. To tease Dorian, Vivienne chuckles. "Try to not drool, darling. It's rather amusing."

Dorian eyes her with a hard expression on his face before changing the subject to ease the tension in the room. "Your outfit's entertaining, I'll give you that."

She rolls her eyes, taking a sip of her jasmine tea. "The way you sneer at "southerners," pretending to be a shark from a land of sharks. But you are not a shark and never will be, darling. They knew it, just as you do."

"I could have pretended. Wore fancy clothes, convinced everyone I'm something I'm not. Then I could take a position at court, whore myself out, and desperately hope no one realizes what a fraud I am." Theron returns to sit next to Dorian to let Athehari to continue working on his hair, which was shorter and shinier. "You two should put on a show and charge for admission."

Varric chuckles after taking a bite of his sausage link. "I know, I'm taking notes."

Iron Bull raises his tankard with a loud laugh. "I'd see it."

Vivienne shakes her head. "My dear Inquisitor, whatever is the issue? We are having a perfectly civil conversation."

Dorian finally rests his head on Theron's shoulder. "It's true. I've heard worse from our gardener back home." He then sees Sayuri in the crib, stirring. "Uh, Arte. Is your daughter bothered?"

Athehari turns and sees this, sighing. "I cleaned her up and nursed her an hour or so ago. I dunno why she's being moody. Cole..."

"Um, why let that...thing...near your child?"

"Vivienne, please." Athehari looks at the mage, her silver eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Cole saved my brother from an envy demon and when I couldn't hush her even after tending to her, he holds her and she falls asleep. The only time she will sleep or be at ease is when he holds her. You may not approve of him, but I do. Cole, can you please hold her for a bit?"

Cole then carefully picks up Sayuri into his arms. As he stroked the infant's hair, her fussing slowed. Then he began to hum a lullaby; now her tears had stopped, leaving only their wet tracks down her face. He could soothe Amaryllis like no-one else ever could. It wasn't long until she was asleep against his chest after nuzzling him.

Josephine smiles at the sight. "You two look are so adorable like that."

Athehari finishes one large braid in her twin's hair before starting the other. "As I said, she's taken to him. My daughter throws a fuss, but when he holds her, she's asleep all night and calm during daylight."

Cole then wraps the fur blanket around Sayuri before holding her close again. "What is this...that I am feeling?"

Varric looks at him. "You see the little one as your own daughter, don't you? You have that need to protect her and that's a good thing. Right?"

Cole looks down at the little girl, who was nuzzled his chest. "Caring, kind, peaceful. Yet...something ancient beneath...lies dormant..."

Varric then looks up at Cole, giving his hand a break from writing his book and changing the subject. "So you could make people not see you, Cole. Can you do that for other people?"

He puts the infant to sleep with a spell and gently lays her back down in the bed, covering her up. This time, she doesn't cry and it surprises everyone - even Vivienne. "Yes. It makes me tired, and doesn't work if they're loud. Or angry. Or bright."

"Hmm, what about things? Can you make people ignore an object?"

"Maybe. Like what?"

A raven flies up to the window and caws at them. Josephine and Cullen stand up. "Seems Leliana wants to speak with us. We'll see you later."

Vivienne and Blackwall follows suit and Iron Bull then stands up. "Theron, when you and Dorian get back, meet me at the tavern. I wanna properly introduce you to the Chargers."

Theron nodded and Bull leaves before Varric continues. "Oh, I don't know. A book, or a box... or a crate... or a wagon full of crates?"

Sera tackles down her tankard of mead and stands up. "Turning creepy loose on your stuff? Not a good idea, dwarfy."

Cassandra eyes him angrily. "Dwarf..."

Varric closes his book before he and the girls then leave as well. "I was just asking."

Theron then stands up; Athehari was finally done braiding his hair. He didn't mind it actually. While the two braids were behind his left ear, the rest of his silken hair was freely flowing and mostly covered his right eye. Dorian blushes, but shakes his head and has the elf take his hand. "Well, shall we?"

Athehari hugs her brother quickly. "Stay safe. And don't blame yourself. Dorian, keep my brother safe."

* * *

_**Location: Destroyed Dalish Camp (Outside Wycome - Free Marches)** _

One minute, they were in Theron's bedroom; the next, they were outside of a forest not too far from the coastal city of Wycome. From a deep resonating blue below to one above, from water to sunlit air, the briny aroma has all the callings of home. But once Theron gets to the entrance of the forest his clan has settled for years, his heart felt like it stopped and his vision turns red. His heart rate increases as a vision that didn't belong to him invades his mind.

**~~~~~**

**(Theron's POV)**

_Almost as soon as the lightning had struck the tree, the world became illuminated. In the distance, I could see thick gray smoke billowing into the skies. The once pale blue sky is now shielded by a veil of darkness as the smoke swallows up the whole sky. Fierce fire could be seen sneaking their way out from the rows of trees._ _The flames danced and leapt in the air, reaching hungrily for anything that they can consume to fuel their wrath. The smoke wasn't completely opaque, but its long grey wisps seemed to curl with others that were much darker, some near black. That's when I feel the panic rise up and my mouth goes dry._

 _I run into the fray and I... Why was this happening? My soldiers didn't go after my clan...it was the Venatori! If that was the case, then_ who _gave Cullen that cursed letter?!_

 _The screams were primal. They all had a raw intensity to it that told of urgency, of desperate need as young children were ripped from their mothers and fathers slain in cold blood. The inhale of smoke didn't help either. I run to where my aravel was. I...no!_ _My brother-in-law, Dayrahel, his body was chopped into pieces! His organs laid all on the ground. My stomach is throbbing... I'm gonna be sick..._

_'Get to Redcliffe!' I see Mother, her black hair disheveled and her green eyes bloodshot with tears. Wait...her eyes...they were glowing red! Oh no! She has red lyrium coming out of her skin! Athehari, my sister with child, was taken to safety on our halla's back. 'I love you...all three of you...'_

_Wait..._ three _...of us? What does that mean? Arte and I were the only ones born to you!_

_Father was fighting as best as he could, but when his legs were cut off, he crawls to join Mother once again before they are both cut down like animals. The bloodshed was as barbaric; it was just pure evil and so...so cruel..._

_I stood frozen. The keeper, hunters, my parents, the storyteller, the halla keeper, the keeper's first, the craftmasters, the merchants who traded with us, the apprentices, and even the children... My whole clan was killed!_ _Blood, flames, and smoke amongst with the corpses of those I loved dearly while the Venatori all laugh evilly. A scream from deep within that forces its way from my mouth, it is as if my terrified soul has unleashed a demon. All I could now feel is anger... I just want to end it all for revenge. 'Theron!'_

**~~~~~**

**(Author's POV)**

"Theron!"

The elf cries out in pain, panting heavily and his body all covered in sweat and his pupiled dilated; his skin has turned very pale. Dorian then holds the elf close, who was fighting his grasp. "I have to help them! Please! Let me go!"

The Tevinter then unwillingly slaps Theron, snapping him out of it. The tear streaks and the obvious pain on the elf's face was just heartbreaking. Theron collapses against Dorian's chest, rocking him back and forth. "I failed them, Dorian... It's all my fault... I couldn't save them..."

A glove of ice encased his heart, staying locked up in its frozen prison and afraid to pick the lock or try to break the bars. Dorian embraces Theron gently, who holds onto him as he runs his fingers through his hair. "It's not your fault. You were with us when this happened. The Venatori took them away from you. But know this..."

Dorian puts his hand on Theron's cheek and gently has him look up into his eyes. "You have friends to lean on for support, your sister, your niece and...you have me. I'm here to help you. Will you let me?"

Theron nodded and returns to Dorian's arms. The Tevinter's scent was the perfect mix of an earthy fragrance of green figs blended with fresh, ground cinnamon and warm cloves enhanced with a very light hint of fresh orange. It was...comforting to him. Dorian could tell the Dalish's scent that was very pleasant. Smoky wood with the essence of this rich, autumn fragrance and fresh peaches elevate the natural fruit sensation with lingering undertones of vanilla.

After a few minutes, they stand up and while holding hands tightly; Theron was shaking as he led Dorian to the leftover of what was once his main home settlement. The old leaves hustled in the wind, as the sounds of dead, weak trees creak at every push the wind gave. Soon enough, they would reach the old settlement. Many of the aravels were destroyed and some areas were completely unrecognizable. The smell of burnt wood was still there, but not as much. They stop at the first aravel and Theron looks back at Dorian. "You weren't seeing things."

Dorian was confused. "What do you mean?"

"When we were doing missions all over the Hinterlands, you said that you thought you saw my eyes change colors. But..." Theron inhales deeply and when he re-opens his eyes, the pupils were slit and they blazed like an ever flickering flame - a mix of three colors pulsating as one heartbeat: the passionate crimson, the confident yellow like the radiating sun, and the attractive dancing marigold gave way to a lively look. "...you weren't seeing things."

The Tevinter examines Theron's eyes a little more, putting a hand on his cheek. "Well, you're no mage - that much is clear. I'm not sure, but know that my feelings about you hasn't changed."

Dorian pulls back and Theron smiles, but when his hand touches the tree, he sees something in his vision and yanks his hand back. His lover wraps his arms around him, quickly settling him down. Holding hands, they both put their hand on the tree. A short memory plays...

* * *

_Nelrand was tanning leather on the rack while human travelers browsed his wares. He has styled his white hair well, parting it to the right; his left eye shined green while wearing a patch over his missing right eye. He mostly wore a grey jacket with tight pants. He liked to be helpful and prescribe proper advice to his costumers._

_His assistance, Taeran Oakwind, was helping sell the wares and many of the young human children enjoyed his presence. He was very friendly, welcoming air about him, he always wore the road beaten gear of a warrior. His black hair was slicked back into a classic pompadour._

_Theron was 14 this day and had hunted earlier, killing a great grizzly bear and carried the heavy beast back to the camp. He skinned off all the fur as well as its teeth and claws. The fur was the color of seasoned acorns; while bristly and rough to the touch, washing the fur made it very soft and could help one last through the harsh months of winter._

_"Another one. Theron, you're fast and efficient at this. Are you sure you don't wish to be a merchant?"_

_He chuckles and shakes his head. "Nah. I prefer spending weeks in the forest to protect us and not having to drag you along."_

_"Watch your tongue, kiddo. That'll get you in more trouble than you know."_

* * *

The memory stops; Theron and Dorian pull back, surprising Dorian. "You can see the memories of what happened back then far beyond of what we can determine. You must be a clairvoyant. But never mind that for now."

The next thing they go to is an aravel showing netting that held decaying fish and old fish bones. This memory then plays...

* * *

_"Tyr!" I turn around to see Oranni Oakwind, Taeran's youngest daughter at the age of 9, running towards me. Her knees were a bright-red and thread-thin legs covered in scars as well as tiny scrapes on her arms and cheeks. Leaves and acorns got her black hair all messy._

_I sigh. "Oranni, how many times do I have to tell you to not climb anymore trees? Your father will tan my hide if you don't listen to me."_

_"But Tyr, you're allowed to climb! So why can't I?!" I eyed her, tears staining her emerald eyes and her rosy cheeks showing her frustration, but I couldn't blame her. I approach her to wipe her eyes and I gently pick her up into my arms. I was 14, but her weight didn't kill my arms._

_"I'm allowed to climb because I am a scout and hunter. I have to protect our clan. It's my job because all of you are my world." I then walk towards the aravel of Adanne and Velanne Willowstone, the infamous twin sisters who caught fish for the clan._

_Velanne stepped out into the light with a huge net carrying the mass amount of smelt she caught. I guess from afar, you could say her soft blonde curls were the color of rich cream, but up close, it was a chorus of hues. Her wool dress was covered in mud and dank with water._

_Adanne has caught king salmon and began cutting them with her butcher knife and removing the organs that were in edible as well as the fish eggs, which was a delicacy amongst nobles. A tumble of blonde curls fell around her face. It wasn't that bland color that's just a shade nicer than the white of old age; it was streaked with warm reddish hues and butterscotch. It gave her some warmth, complementing her pale face rather than making her look washed-out._

_She looks up at me with those blue-grey eyes of hers as I was carrying Oranni over to her. Whenever she speaks, it was like she was half-singing; she also always feel obliged to help someone. "She hurt herself again?"_

_I quickly nod at her. "You know it, Adanne."_

_Velanne rushes over after washing her hands and drying them off. Her eyes were like all the myriad shades of blue swirled together to form a whirlpool of apprehension. She takes Oranni from my arms getting moist moss and places it on her knees before wrapping them in bandages. She then applies the goopy aloe onto her cheeks and arms. "You have to listen to Theron. We know your father is busy, but he can't be around all the time and Theron has to do his job as well."_

_I then figure out a solution and lean down to Oranni. "How about a deal then? If you do not climb anymore until this week's end, I'll personally go to Wycome and buy tasty treats for you."_

_Her eyes immediately lit up at that and hugs me. "Okay! I promise!"_

* * *

"You're really good with kids, aren't you?" Dorian looks at Theron with a smile. "I swore I'd protect her, but I didn't. And now, she's gone..."

The duo continued lurking around the old settlement for a time. Through the memories, Dorian was amazed at how much Theron's clan loved him like a real person.

The next extensive aravel belonged to Istimaethoriel. "This was your...Keeper's?"

"Yes." They then activate the memory once touching the oak tree.

* * *

_The lanterns were the dreams of those who lit them, illuminated like stars against the inky black night. Those on the water merged with the reflections of those in the sky, creating an unearthly experience - autumn orange. Ironically, the only color that could be seen on the summers night._

_Istimaethoriel Lavellan was sorting runes to trade with the dwarves the following morning. He is lean but muscular and is wearing a long, white and red robes. Dating back to the period of the elven Dales, when the Keepers were not leaders and guides for individual clans but rather priests who served as archivists and magical scholars, these robes belonged to the High Keeper for the largest temple of old Halamshiral dedicated to Elgar'nan, the All-Father and Eldest of the Sun. His bright golden hair was in a singular tribal braid and his eyes are like wisps of cloud at twilight. He cares much about the opinion of others, both in good and in bad: when keeping in line with his opinion, he thinks highly of the other person while maintaining a soft-spoken, yet optimistic manner for his voice._

_He hears footsteps approaching. They have the wet sound of someone walking on grass; someone who's learnt to walk quietly and doesn't rely on the verges to muffle their steps. Each footfall is graciously spaced from the last in full rhythm. Whoever it speaks pure confidence. "Come inside, da'len."_

_A naked Theron walks inside of the aravel while naked and sits down, crossing his legs. The ritual of getting his vallaslin was beginning as the entire clan watches on. He chose to devote himself to Mythal, the All-Mother and bringer of justice._

_Pure water is dumped onto his body and the clan chants as to purify his body and soul. Istimaethoriel then brings out a fire-enhanced ceremonial dagger and starts carving the complex design into his flesh. Tears escape Theron's eyes, running away upon his cheeks - yet he doesn't cry out in pain. If he showed any physical signs of weakness now, he wouldn't be ready and be considered a child forever._

**_~~~~~_ **

_'Fight with valor!' A mysterious masculine voice is heard in the young elf's head. Within his own mind's consciousness, he goes elsewhere._

_The wheels of straw rest on their earthen bed, soaking in sunshine, adding their fragrance to the day that develops as an old photographic film may. Under the sky that is made all the more pretty for the scattered clouds, the white puffs that radiate white light, every color is made more gay. Perhaps this is the pride of nature, this simple scene of flora and fauna, and the biggest blessing is to witness its beauty._

_Theron is approached by a male human, dressed in the most exquisite armor he's ever seen. Was he part of the Orlesian army? The Templar Order? A Grey Warden perhaps? The glow around him was a kind of translucent white, it was not greyish or creamy or blonde. It was absolutely white - heavenly, and intoxicating._ _'Who are you?'_

_'I am Valor, a warrior spirit. You appeared confident, but deep down, your soul cried to me for help. I will lend it - if you agree to duel me first. Valor shall test your mettle as it should be tested." But after a moment, the spirit seemed to relax. "Never you mind, young lad. Your will is unquestionably very strong. Very well, I shall lend you my strength. Use it wisely."_

_ **~~~~~** _

_Theron then feels a powerful surge throughout his body. Although he was burning, he accepted it and his consciousness returns to the waking world. The chant suddenly stops and the dagger is retreated from him. "_ _Rise once more, Theron Ravenheart."_

_He does so and looks at the Keeper, blood running down his face and yet feeling stronger than he has ever been in his life. "Say the oath of what we all have before you."_

_Theron then speaks. "We are the Dalish: keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path. We are the last of the Elvhenan, and never again shall we submit."_

* * *

"Incredible." Dorian was surprised at the memory. Learning more about Theron's heritage and background was just fascinating, but seeing a Spirit of Valor coming to his aid... "So, that spirit...it gave you this power of clairvoyance."

"It did. But I cannot use magic. That's the only difference."

The last one they come across was where Theron lived in. There was scorch marks on the ground next to it as well as massive spikes of ice. Inside the aravel, it looked like a normal home like the others with a firepit to cook, but old food and clothes were all over the place. Theron goes to the bedroom of his parents and only found one two things on the bed: a knitted dark-red scarf that his mother, Nahari, always wore around her waist or wrist.

It was wrapped around amazing twin daggers. Just imagine the glitter of its scales as it coils and wiggles its snakelike body. Its wings capture the wind allowing it to sail smoothly through the air. A dark etching of the beast decorates the serrated blades while a cast metal image of the dragon forms the handles. Its coiled body and wings comprise the guard while its horned head serves as a pommel. A segmented grip mimics the scales of said dragon, contributing to a firm hold as well as style. The blades belonged to his father, Feynran. They were named _Sin_ and _Sorrow_.

Dorian watched in silence as he watched Theron wrap his mother's scarf onto his wrist and sheath his father's daggers around his waist. He then goes up behind and embraces his elf. "Revenge is not the answer, Theron. I understand that you are hurt and angry, but do not loose yourself."

He leans back against his mage, turning slightly to enjoy his warmth before going to an extra bedroom in the aravel. The smell was of juniper berries - crisp, woody, sweet and earthy, with an almost hidden fruity note to it. On the bed, there was three beautiful crystal runes.

The first crystal rune was a perfect midnight black, the sort of blackness that brings memories of perfect starlit nights; yet it could also reflect the light with such vibrancy as to remind one of the stars too, of that moment when a flash of light dares to come through the clouds and show the way home. It was sparking with lightning magic, embedded with a the silhouette of a high dragon.

The second crystal rune was as if alive may do, growing in a pool of minerals over the ages. As such it became as a rainbow sea made of perfect rock, the shoreline ever present and still, as if it were a portrait of flowing colors. It was illuminating with ice magic, embedded with the silhouette of a great bear.

The third and last crystal glowed as if it welcomed the sunlight in some embrace more than took it though so passively. The colors that shone in the brilliant daylight, a richness only nature can bring, a different sort of glow than the golden pools of street lanterns. It was radiating with fire magic, embedded with the silhouette of an alpha wolf.

Dorian was surprised. "Three magic crystals with symbols. Perhaps they're meant for you and your family?"

Theron examines the ice rune crystal and he gets a vision of someone. This elf was tall with an athletic build and has very long, straight, black hair like himself and Athehari, but his eyes were different. They were like a bear, but golden in color and his ears were only _slightly_ pointed. From the energy he gave off, he was intelligent and cunning as well as not caring about taking risks in order to protect his family; he also typically wears black cloth garments or maybe strong black leather armor.

Theron shakes his head as the unfamiliar person would have to wait for right now. He then finds the money saved in a pouch that Athehari mentioned and with that, they were done and he has healed.

* * *

_**Location: Skyhold (Bedroom Quarters)** _

Theron was greeted by his sister, hugging her tightly. He gives her the money she had saved up as well as the three crystal runes as well as their mother's scarf and their father's daggers. Athehari agreed and leaves the room to let him rest.

Dorian puts his staff down and goes to sit on the bed next to Theron, removing his gloves as well. "Are you...holding up alright?"

Theron's eyes were closed for a moment and when reopened, they had returned to their normal icy-lavender color. "Y-Yeah... I'm fine."

He caresses the elf's long hair and he takes a deep breath, having Theron look into his eyes as he begins to make a confession. "Theron, these past few months since joining the Inquisition, I've wanted...nothing more than to have you as mine. You are caring, intelligent, fierce...passionate. Unlike the men I've been with before, you are different. I don't want to hide our relationship any longer. And so, I ask this..."

Dorian gently pushes Theron onto the bed with the pillows behind his head as well as removing their shirts flawlessly before cupping the elf's face. Theron's heart beat so loudly that it seemed to want to escape his chest. Was this love he was feeling? Their foreheads touch and their lips were just centimeters apart. "Theron Ravenheart... _Nuva ar ver mar sael dhava (May I take your first kiss)_?"

Theron looks up at Dorian after hearing him speak elvish for the very first time. It was flawless and smooth, making his heart soar with happiness and he sheds a single tear. "Dorian Pavus... _vin (yes)_..." And with that, they finally share their first kiss with each other.

The world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. Dorian's hand rested below Theron's ear, his thumb caressing his cheek as their hot steamy breaths mingled together. Theron ran his fingers down Dorian's spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and he could feel the beating of his heart against his chest. When they slowly broke apart for air, they rest their foreheads together and gathered some much needed oxygen. " _Ar lath ma (I love you)_ , Dorian."

When they finally clasped each other in a warm, slow and luxurious cuddle, they felt all oppositions to their love had melted. His chests rising and falling against each others', their breaths in unison, and the warm blood that they could feel in each others' embrace. Dorian kisses Theron once more, but more gently. "And I love you... _amatus_."


	6. Judging and Drinking

_ **Location: Skyhold (Bedroom Quarters)** _   
_ **Date: Sunday, The 2nd of Harvestmere** _

Though the sun is bright and still brilliant in the sky, it is cooler - even on the days that lack clouds. When the wind gently blew, they came down, breaking delicately off of tree branches and fluttering down to earth like a colorful rain.

Dorian slowly opens his eyes and yawns before stretching. He then looks down to his left, seeing his beloved Theron still asleep. Seeing his clairvoyant abilities awake for the first time, it left him drained and needing extra rest. The mage felt his heart breaking when he saw his lover torn down and emotional the previous day.

He leans down and puts a hand onto Theron's shoulder, nibbling his ear playfully. The elf gasps and moans before he wipes his ear and groans as sunlight pierces his lavender eyes. He yawns before a pair of brown orbs enters his sight; he then gives a small smile. " _Ma vhenan (My heart)_."

His mage smiles back, putting a hand on Theron's cheek before leaning down for a deep morning kiss. "Do you feel any better, _amatus_?"

The young elf returns it affectionately. "I do. Just a little sore though."

Dorian then sits up in the bed. "I know it's a little early to ask, but...would like to take a bath together this morning while it's still early?"

Theron blushes softly and grows quiet for a moment. "There's...something I never told you. And I hope you don't hate me for it..." Dorian looks at him after fully undressing, taking one of his lover's hands into his own to comfort him. Theron takes a deep breath and gulps before pulling his pants down. "I was born like this..."

The young elf then lays back on the bed and shows himself to Dorian. Instead what he had for a man...it was with an undisturbed woman's slit. ' _Theron really is a virgin, but...is he a woman? But...why doesn't this bother me like it should...?_ '

Pushing the thoughts out of the head, Dorian then leans down to kiss Theron deeply. As they kiss, Dorian gently runs his strong hands up the elf's slender arms, his sandy-beige skin as smooth as warm velvet, and cups his face gently. Theron was slightly nervous as Dorian's waist was inbetween his legs, but was surprised that his lover wasn't taking advantage of him. He felt his mage's massive member lightly twitching against his slim stomach as a small tease.

"It doesn't bother me at all. I'm glad that you told me upfront."

After a little bit, Dorian and Theron enjoy a hot bath together. The sensation of the steamy water calms them, taking their minds off things that didn't matter to them.

When he gets out and dries off, Theron walks to brush his lengthy silken hair into a shaggy half-ponytail style with a long bang that partially covered his right eye and another strand that dangled on the left side of his face. He then puts on a slightly tight, low-cut black linen warrior tunic that had silver forest-trimmed sleeves. There was also black cotton pants, a sleeveless black vest with three steel leaf-shaped clasps, and multi-buckle thigh high black leather boots. There was also stainless steel pauldrons on his shoulders that was etched with a ferocious dragon head design.

Dorian comes up behind Theron, looking at their reflection. "Now, _this_ is a true Inquisitor outfit. Harsh but fair. Feared, but also respected. And one more thing..."

"What is it, Dorian?"

The Tevinter then reaches into his pocket and puts on a necklace around his beloved's neck. The sterling silver chain was holding a crystal prism. The aurora borealis with small crystallized lights floating all inside the prism was so beautiful. The colors for the aurora magic inside was peachy pink, minty green, honey gold, dark navy, light lavender like Theron's eyes, sleek porcelain, tangerine orange, and rich scarlet. That as well as the thunder rune was attached to another cord above the other necklace.

"Inquisitor! There are those who await your justice!"

"I'll be down there shortly, Josephine."

"Good luck, _amatus_."

* * *

The gold and blue Inquisition-designed window cast a brilliant morning sunlight onto the obsidian floor and ignited the main hall of Skyhold. It matched the drapes: a thick, midnight-green velvet that hung in generous folds around the windows, lined with thick royal-yellow cotton. The design of the drapes had the tree branch and bow symbol of the Dalish, surrounded by silver oak tree leaves in an intricate pattern. Spiked hanging braziers are attached to each of the ten obsidian columns that light up most of the hall and engulf it in a glimmer. A dignified yet threatening obsidian throne sits atop an elevated platform; it was shaped like the open maw of a high dragon's massive skull - sharp teeth and the horns mostly. Under the arm rests were Nevarran skulls with glowing green eyes - thanks to his sister's Athehari's strong rift magic. The pillows on the throne was a dark azure and matched the rug running right down the middle of the hold's aisle. From the ceiling, there was four massive silver candle chandeliers that added more light, but not overwhelming to the point where it could blind someone. The other décor was a mix of Tevinter with spikes and draconic statues with glowing eyes as well.

Theron steps out in his new outfit; the nobles, as well as the advisors and companions, were absolutely stunned to see him take on such a dark look.

When he takes his seat, everyone inside Skyhold's halls go silent as Cullen comes to his side. "Knight-Captain Denam. He awaits judgment for serving Lord Seeker Lucius at Therinfal Redoubt. I knew some of the knights who died there. I was asked to oversee his sentencing by our ambassador. The envy demon perhaps fooled the knight-captain, by following his superiors' orders nearly destroyed the Templar Order."

"We'll find a suitable punishment for the good captain."

Denam looked up at Theron, who was sitting on his throne with his arms crossed. Denam's eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, hard. "I only did what I was told!"

Cullen shakes his head. "Knowingly or not, you condemned your brothers and sisters to death."

"You would have done the same, if you hadn't abandoned the Order! I served faithfully. It went red after what the Lord Seeker told me to do!"

Theron closes his eyes. He remembered Therinfal Redoubt all too well. The red lyrium, Cole helping him from Envy with the help of Barris and his friends, the corruption upon the order, and even finding the Knight-Vigilant's body... The corpse was almost devoid of skin and pitted by burrowing red lyrium. Without eyelids, the milky blue eyes stared into the frozen sky while the lip-less mouth hung open. Theron was disgusted by such an act and thought about his decision. Having him serve the Inquisition would be deemed an insult, keeping him in the cells was pointless, and questioning him about red lyrium wouldn't do much good either. As for the Templars judging him, they were too broken and not wanting to deal with Denam anyway.

After thinking it through, he reopens his eyes and looks at the templar. The elf's eyes were no longer lavender. They had turned green due to the Anchor pulsating and glowing lightly in his left hand. "Historically, the Seekers of Therinfal Redoubt had a specific punishment for those who failed their charges. For betraying the knights under your command, you are barred from any city outside the Sea of Ash."

Denam struggles against the guards, who start dragging him out. "Lost in that wasteland?! No! The other officers were to blame!"

Cullen then steps down and Josephine comes to his side. "Before you is Servis of the Minrathous Circle of Magi. You met him and his Venatori in the Western Approach. He admits to working for Corypheus, raising monsters, and using magic for conquest. He also used his connections to smuggle magical artifacts out of the Approach...without his master's consent."

Theron was actually quite surprised by this. "You _stole_ from Corypheus? I don't know whether that's stupidly brave or bravely stupid."

Servis looked up at the elf. His heavy eyelids were a fraction too slow to blink, his irises too stationary. It was as if his brain was suffering a massive short fuse and struggling to function. "I was hired by a third party! I've no loyalty to him. Might you find that useful, Your Worship?"

Josephine wasn't really buying his words, but remained calm. "I'm sorry. Are you attempting to bargain with us?"

"Bargain? I plead. I throw myself at your mercy! I also have friends in Tevinter who owe me large debts. Let's leave what happened in the Approach behind us, Inquisitor. I can put them all at your disposal."

"Answer me this first." Servis felt his heart sink as Theron's eyes turn draconic. "Your Venatori had an elven prisoner in the cells...my twin sister, no less." Whispers rang through the main hall before it calmed down. "Did you do anything to harm her?"

"I had nothing to do with that at all! Yes, I heard her screams from the magister's abuse, but I only followed orders that were given to me."

His clairvoyance powers activated and he searched Servis's memories. He was being truthful and he thinks about a decision. Leaving him in the cells was pointless and recruiting him as an informant or personal smuggler - he could go rogue for all he could tell. He then makes his decision, although a couple of his friends weren't feeling too good after it. "Corypheus can deal with his wayward lieutenant. Bind him with a note saying what he did, and leave him for a Venatori patrol. Now get him out of my sight!"

Servis tried to run, but the guards were too quick to grab him back into place. The paralyzing fear spreads through his body like icy, liquid metal. "Maker's mercy! Are you serious?! No, wait! Stop, stop, stop!"

* * *

_ **Location/Time: Herald's Rest (Skyhold's Tavern) || 12:05 PM** _

The outside of the tavern was rustic, enchanting and beautiful. Large stones and well-crafted wooden beams make up most of the building's outer structure. It's as alluring inside as it is on the outside. Rounded, wooden beams support the upper floor and the rows of small candles attached to them. It was easy to see through the small, stained glass windows, but the inviting music from within can be felt outside.

Several long tables are occupied by happy, excited groups of people, some are dancing on the table, while others cheer them on with clapping and yelling. The other, smaller tables are also occupied by people who who seem to be strangers to each other, all sitting here because there are no other seats. Though they all clearly enjoy each other's company. Even most of the stools at the bar are occupied, though nobody seems to mind more company.

White powdered ash from the burning logs were crowded in the crevices of the auburn bricks. The thick wood pieces were crackling and popping as the bright flame slowly ate away at it and turned it to black ashes, as if a shadow had corrupted its lively essence. The dancing fire licked and spat at the curved ceiling of the hearth with its glowing, bright golden flame, and its red base shimmered across the wood like a dawn upon a summer morning. The hearth was inviting to all those who opened the door.

The toasted sandwiches were made in the iron frying pan, the bread becoming a golden brown. The aroma would make its way through the tavern, announcing that lunch was almost ready. Fresh cookies snuggled close upon the plate, a welcoming sight for the incoming travelers. The smell of smoky warm beer, sweet variants of wine, and grilled or roasted meats alit the tavern. Bowls of berries sat there in sunlight, reflecting the spectrum of reds to blues. They were a work of art conjured from such tiny seeds and each one born to become so sweet.

Theron decided to put on a white and red tunic, remove the thunder rune from around his neck, and matte brown leather boots. He also lets his long hair all loose to appear less intimidating. Iron Bull was smirking as he sees the elf walk in. "Ah, good. We're not drinking alone."

Theron sits down and pours himself a tankard of nut brown ale. Bull looks to Cremisius Aclassi, or Krem - the lieutenant of the Bull's Chargers. They first met when Bull reached out to join the Inquisition on the Storm Coast. Next to them were two humans, two elves, and a dwarf. "How ya doin', Krem de le crème?"

Krem has short brown hair, strands coloring from rich caramels to the deep earthy hues. His eyes were the shade of acorns, just bright enough to shine in the shadows. "Your Worship, I'm so glad he has someone new to hit with that joke."

Theron chuckles after taking a swig of his ale. "I can think a lot of worse names than going with 'Cremisius'."

"So can the chief. Believe me, he loves his nicknames."

Iron Bull just swallowing a large chunk of his grilled hare before responding. "Hey, when I was growing up, my name was just this series of numbers. We all gave each other nicknames under the Qun."

"They wear shirts under the Qun, chief? Or do they just run around binding their breasts like that?"

Bull seemed slightly angered by the comment. "It's a harness, Krem."

"Yes, for your pillowy man-bosoms. Lemme know if you need help binding. You could really chisel something out of that overstuffed look."

Theron then realized something about Krem, surprising him. "Wait... Are you... I didn't realize..."

Krem got a little irritated by the comment. "You didn't? Well, great. Now we can all talk about it."

Iron Bull then responds after a sip of his own ale. "In Qunandar, Krem'd be an _aqun-athlok_. That's what we call someone who was born one gender, but lives as another."

Krem looks at his commander. "And qunari don't treat those...aqun people any differently than a real man?"

"They are real man. Just like you are."

"Maybe your people aren't so bad after all."

"Don't get your hopes up just yet. We still come down hard on the back talk." Iron Bull looks back to Theron, who finished his first tankard of ale and was now eating spicy rabbit stew as he was introduced to the others. "Anyway, here's the rest of my main chargers. We got Rocky and Skinner there. And over there is Stitches, Dalish, and Grim. Crazy bunch of assholes, but they're mine."

Theron looks at the human on the floor. His shirt hair was a comb of blond strands with eyes as blue like the sea. He was wearing nice clothing while sitting in a half-cross/half knees-up position on the wooden floor. "Grim, is it?"

He only grunts and Iron Bull answers. "Grim doesn't talk much. I'm pretty sure he's the lost king of some small country. Or a chieftain. Something like that."

Theron then turns to his right, looking at a brunette elf. Her leather armor was well-kept and had a distinct red scarf around her upper torso. "So, how'd you join the Chargers?"

She answers with a thick accent, implying that she was possibly from Antiva or Nevarra. "Killed some people."

"Skinner didn't take too kindly to nobles testing their new swords on the elves in her Alienage."

A small blush and a gleam in her eyes showed up when answering to Bull's comment. "Bull took me in. Now I get paid to kill shems."

"This is actually really good behavior for her. She's not marking her territory or anything."

Theron then turns to the dwarf, who was standing up and drinking strong dwarven ale. He had a number of scars on his face with a brown mustache, a light stubble, and eyes that were the blue-green of mountain lakes. His attire was a variant of the Carta. "Were you born on the surface, or are you from Orzammar?"

He answers. "Orzammar. I got exiled. Stupid noble crap. Also, I accidentally blew up a bit of the Shaperate."

"Rocky's one of our best sappers. He can take down enemy fortifications faster than a golem."

"I'm also working on my own version of qunari blackpowder. I've almost got it."

Iron Bull rolls his eyes. " Yeah. You really don't."

The few of them laugh lightheartedly before Theron turns to one of his people, who was sitting at the people playing chess with a dark-skinned human. He knew that due to her staff sitting in the corner, she was a mage and made to leave the clan because the Dalish couldn't keep too many mages in their clan at once.

Then, the Chargers hear Theron speak to their members in his native Dalish tongue for the first time. " _Ma ane tel din el people ahnsul mar magic (You are not with our people because of your magic)_?"

She looks at him, somewhat surprised. She was wearing armor similar to Skinner's; the pauldrons were now steel instead of fur with a necklace and light chainmail armor instead of leather. Her neon-green vallaslin with in the design of Dirthamen, the Keeper of Secrets. She had hair every girl dreamed of: thick, white-blonde, and just the right hint of wave with some tribal braids in the mix. In those grey eyes remained sparks of the blacksmith's fire. It was obvious that she could understand Theron. "Now, now! You know I'm no mage! That'd make me an apostate."

Iron Bull shakes his head at her bullshit claim. "You carry a staff, Dalish."

"It's a bow!"

Krem jumped in as well. "A bow with a giant glowing crystal at the tip?"

Dalish keeps insisting on it. "Yes, it's for aiming. Old elven trick you wouldn't understand."

Theron looks at the final member, the dark-skinned human - who looks back at the elf with brown eyes and wearing decent leather armor as well. "I take it you're the company healer?"

"Yes. First time I ever picked up a sword was when the Blight in Ferelden. Never put it back down."

Bull was done sipping his ale when answering to that. "Stitches makes potions that'll put you right back on your feet after even the toughest of fights. It tastes terrible, though."

"That's because it's a poultice, ser. You're not supposed to drink it."

Theron was honestly surprised by everyone Iron Bull has accepted into his group. "You really take in anyone, don't you?"

Iron Bull nodded and picks his up tankard as the others do as well. "Anyone who can carry their weight in a fight."

Krem smirked. "And anyone who can put up with your bullshit, chief."

The group then sing their anthem.

_**No one can beat the Chargers 'cause we'll hit you where it hurts.** _   
_**Unless you know a tavern with loose cards and looser skirts!** _   
_**For every bloody battlefield, we'll gladly raise a cup.** _   
_**No matter what tomorrow holds, our horns be pointing up!** _

Bull smiles at Theron who stands up and stretches. "Thanks for coming by, Boss. Glad you could meet some of my team."


	7. Dawning Light (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wanna know what happened with my Tabris and Mahariel elf Wardens after DAO? This chapter explains what's going on while Josephine writes them to ask for their help

_ **Location: The Town of Gwaren (Southern Ferelden)** _   
_ **Date: Wednesday, The 1st of August (9:41 Dragon)** _

_My elder told me once that the tree is called the vhenadahl, which in the ancient elven tongue means "tree of the people." Its roots are deep and the elder said that as long as the vhenadahl lives, so shall we elves. But he also says that there was once a time when our people lived in our own lands and that we were once ageless and strong, that it was the humans who took all this from us._ _Is it true? Have we fallen so far? We are not unhappy. As poor as we are, we have a home. The alienage is no prison - it protects us, just as the vhenadahl shelters us. We dance and sing and make merry, stealing what moments we can to enjoy what little we have…and I believe we appreciate it far more than the humans do. They have everything and appreciate nothing._

_That all was 10 years ago. While the alienage I hail from is still poor, it was far better than anything I could ever imagine. My people have gained full rights as citizens and are looked at as equals. Me being a teyrna now... It's been no easy task, but with guidance of Arl Eamon with Teagan, Lady Isolde, and my beloved husband Alistair all at my side, things have gone smoothly._

_Soris and his human wife, Marian, live with me as well as their six children. Shianni is hahren of the Alienage now after Valendrian - yet she visits us a few times out of the year. I still regret not being able to save her from being violated by that monster Vaughan; she still stands strong and now stands up for our people. My father, Cyrion, lived well until two winters ago. He lived to as long as the Maker willed it. Burying him was hard on me, but I know that he is still with me._

_Nowadays, I run Gwaren with Alistair daily. And then, we caught weird from Inquisitor Lavallen that a darkspawn and dragon have buried Haven after the destruction of the rebuilt Temple of Sacred Ashes. I remember the ruined temple and me lying to that crazed Kolgrim and his cult to give us vials of dragon blood. I reassured Wynne and Leliana that I wasn't gonna spoil Andraste's ashes with it. I took a dare and drank it down. It was stupid, but I felt rejuvenated. We killed the cult who would dare try to defile the ashes of Andraste._

_Anyway, I'm considering accepting Lavallen's request to come to Skyhold to help him fight this evil, but I gotta see what Alistair has to say..._

_ **~~~~~** _

"My love, are you gonna join us for breakfast?"

Nynia Tabris-Theirin gasps softly. Alistair wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and pulled her close to his chest. Kissing her neck was the way their loving began, how they began to feel the tangible nature of one another's souls. "Yes, my dear Alistair. I'll down shortly."

He kisses her deeply before retreating back to downstairs while Nynia looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her long beige-blonde hair was in a half halo style: twisting hair from the forehead all around while keeping the rest of it loose and tousled while her pointed ears were fully exposed. Her dress was a ruby red corset embellished with embordered lace blossoms, clusters of pearls and crystals glittering all throughout the lace. Nynia's eyes were the blue of every dancing sky, infinite hues illuminated by newborn light. They were surrounded by rustic gold eyeshadow and her lips are a rose color.

Not only did Nynia sees herself in the mirror, but her companions as well. She was especially close with Zevran and his snarky commentary in his Antivan accent as well as teasing Shale with her ornithophobia in a monotone voice. She finishes up and heads outside to join her family.

It was a beautiful warm sunlit day of late spring, and the sky held a soft blue glow. Nynia stretched out her fingers to touch the silky pink petals of various flowers; they were cooler than she'd expected, and smoother too. Black veins upon butterfly wings are the perfect hue to accompany such sunny golds.

"Good morning, cousin." Nynia smiles at Marian, Soris's human wife. She was a beautiful woman with long wavy, auburn hair in an uneven side fishtail braid. Her eyes were the color of nascent plants guided upward by the light. Her gown is made from green soft linen and decorated with silver gouache in an entwined pattern. The neckline and the girdle has a piece of silvery metal-ornament with white and green rhinestones. "Good afternoon, Marian. Hey kids."

They all wave to their older first cousin. All the kids had Soris's crimson hair, but with different eye colors. They had three sons: Azrael, Dustin, and Troy. They also had three daughters: Larissa, Brielle, and Rosetta.

Along with the black pants and boots, Alistair was wearing a coat made of diamond embossed genuine leather and jacquard for the lapel as well as a maroon silken scarf. The coat itself is fully lined with black satin. His eyes are reminiscent of the color of a latte, but slightly cooler in tone; his short hair was a lovely dark whisky color.

Soris's red hair was like a bunch of ripe cherries and had the sort of brown eyes that bring hearth-sipped hot cocoa to the memory. He was wearing an aged cotton shirt with long, wide sleeves and a gathered neckline; the cuffs close with small horn buttons. He also had on aged pants made of fine wool with a belt and a weathered black leather jacket. "Good morning, cousin. What letter was received?"

The breakfast for the family consisted of porridge, boiled eggs, crisp fried fish, dog sausage, sweetened wine for the adults, honeyed milk for the children, and large wrinkled plums. Nynia looks at Soris. "Inquisitor Lavellan from Skyhold, but this is written by his ambassador. They're both asking for our help. Not just from Hawke, but from all of us Wardens as well."

Alistair raises an eyebrow. "All of us?"

She shows him the letter. It reads:

 _My Lord and Lady Theirin of Gwaren,_  
 _Inquisitor Lavallen has asked to request your help and your companions to help us stop Corypheus, a darkspawn magister.  
I apologize for not contacting you earlier, but after the attack of Haven, we need all of the help we can possibly ask for.  
And my lord Alistair, I know you and Loghain are not the best of terms, but I also requested for his help.  
Something else is going on, so this is apparent that we're gonna need every bit of your abilities.  
Please come to Skyhold as quick as you can.  
_ _-Josephine Montilyet, Ambassador of the Inquisition_

Alistair was surprised by such words. "A darkspawn magister?"

"That says a lot, Alistair. I know we have duties here, but such a threat of this magnitude...we cannot ignore it."

He nodded. "You're right. Go write Josephine a response and we shall make way for Skyhold."

* * *

_ **Location: Ostagar (Southern Ferelden)** _   
_ **Date: Friday, The 3rd of August** _

_We are the Dalish: keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path. We are the last of the Elvhenan, and never again shall we submit.'_

_This is the oath we Dalish elves hold close to our hearts. In ancient times, we ruled over Thedas alone, ageless and beautiful, until the humans came. Enslaved for a thousand years, we have lost not only our immortality but our very identity. We are the elves who refuse to live in human cities, proudly wandering the most remote corners of the wild lands in small clans that rarely meet. Our wagons are welcome nowhere, and more than one tale is told of the Dalish clashing with remote villagers who attempt to drive us away by force._ _Much has been lost, but the Dalish will find what has been lost and keep it safe. We will relearn the elven tongue, rediscover the ancient crafts and practice the old magics. We will spurn the human god and instead cleave to our ancient pantheon, praying that one day our gods will return and lead our people to a new homeland. There, the Dalish will await the return of those elves who have forgotten what they were, and we will teach them to remember._

_ **~~~~~** _

The breeze today was but the wind in calm meditation. Wild flowers grow, rainbow freckles to adorn the green. It started out as free honey when folks converted their grass to native species. The grass on Taleisin Mahariel's soles is soft on soft, warm on warm, a gentle tickle as each giving wand forms a cushion of green. Each strand moves in the summer breeze as easily as his hair, the waves and rustling as alive as his steady breaths.

His medium-long hair was a lovely whisky, the color of fallen leaves browned and sleek with the first rain of autumn. How such a tint could play with the light, like peering at the sun through a jar of golden pine honey. His eyes were like every green hue of the forest in summertime.

He was overlooking the entire valley. Because of Queen Anora, Ostagar was granted to his people a decade past and all the clans in Ferelden gathered there. Small farms were grown, decent homes were built, and due to expanding the clans further with newborns, more scouts could patrol the perimeter of their lands for danger. Also, the darkspawn leftover from the Fifth Blights wandering close by could be eliminated. And because of Taleisin's part, trade with nearby human settlements have gone really well.

But deep down, Taleisin just felt...empty. Tamlen was forever gone and Ashalle has passed on as well as Marethari. His surrogate mother and mentor who he'd grown up with - all gone. Lanaya was Keeper now and she has been well to him with Fenarel at his side, but he just...didn't feel like himself.

The only other one Taleisin had left in his life - his beloved Leon Cousland, the Warden-Commander and Hero of Ferelden. They have been parted for eight long years now and it was killing him. Not being in the arms of the man he loved was bothersome and he wished he could join him.

Sighing, Taleisin approaches a tall weeping willow tree. It was fused with Ashalle, the woman who raised him after the death of his parents. Its soft petal-like leaves brought him comfort as he would remember how his whole world was before the Blight. Marethari teaching him the ways, the affection Ashalle showed him, and the trouble he'd get in with Merrill, Fenarel, and Tamlen as young kids. He would do anything to reverse time to go back to those happy days...

After pulling back from the tree, Taleisin heads to the home he's built. The young elf was wearing a rich black cotton velvet shirt with a lace-up neck and slashed sleeves. He was also wearing black drop-front pants made of wool with leather tie closures.

Sitting on his bed close to the hearth was the blanket Leon had ever since he was still wrapped in a blanket at his mother's breast. This massive blanket was soft and made from numerous fur pelts that belonged to wild coyotes. The smell mix of his beloved warrior was unforgettable. The minty smell of a pine tree, the luxurious aroma of fine leather, and smoky scent of whiskey or mead was infused within the furs and it helped Taleisin remember his lover daily.

His door opens to reveal his childhood friends, Fenarel and Merrill. The male elf's blonde hair was straight down with the exception of a single tribal braid. His eyes were green hue reminding others of sunshine and floral blooms. He was wearing the same Dalish armor set that Tamlen wore before he was dead.

Merrill was a beautiful woman: her eyes are pale like the lightest of blue petals in the strongest of sunlight. Her short-medium hair lies black and poker straight, yet soft, moving like prairie grass in the wind. She was wearing a black cotton dress with red lacing at the sides and sleeves. Taleisin smiles at them softly. "Hey guys."

The three friends embrace each other before pulling apart. Merrill looks at Taleisin as Fenarel starts to make lunch for them: beef and barley stew with crusty rustic bread. "This letter came for you."

_Taleisin Mahariel of Ostagar,_   
_Inquisitor Lavallen has asked to request your help and your companions to help us stop Corypheus, a darkspawn magister.  
I apologize for not contacting you earlier, but after the attack of Haven, we need all of the help we can possibly ask for.  
I know you and Leon Cousland are lovers, but I requested for his help as well.  
Something else is going on, so we're gonna need every bit of your assistance. Please come to Skyhold as quick as you can._   
_-Josephine Montilyet, Ambassador of the Inquisition_

The elf felt his heart soar. After eight years, he was going to see his beloved again and he was happy. He'd have to leave his clan once more for gods know how long, but he needs to see Leon again. Seeing his other companions after a decade would be gratifying as well.

"You're leaving again?" Taleisin turns to Fenarel, who was appearing sad.

"Fenarel, you know the clan is my heart. But...I love Leon. He is a part of me now too. And with my help requested once more, I may be gone permanently this time."

Merrill was saddened as well. "But why?! We need you here!"

Taleisin tosses the letter into the hearth before taking hold of his blanket and holding it close to him. "Merrill...you were with Hawke and his friends for seven years before returning to us with Mathehari's blessing! She, with Ashalle, Tamlen and Paivel...they're gone. There's nothing left for me here..."

He then goes to grab luxury vintage leather backpack and begins to put essentials into it: his blanket, a leather journal with a unique quill pen holding a peacock feather, a small vial of ink, a hunting knife, a round of decent bandages, a coinpurse, and a few strips of dried meat jerky.

Fenarel frowns and approaches his friend, putting his hand on Taleisin's shoulder. "So, you plan on abandoning us for life...because you love a shem?"

"I'm also a Grey Warden!" Taleisin stands up quickly and looks at his friends...his eyes glimmered with watery tears and he felt as if all of his world was about to crumble. "That is another oath I took to cure me of that sickness...that's for life! This is the sacrifice I made. My life being normal...is over. Leon is the only reason I still choose to live..."

He turns away again, wiping his tears. "I leave tomorrow at first light. I will miss you two. I really will..."

Fenarel and Merrill could no longer be upset with Taleisin. They had to accept that he was to leave and never return to their world. He was once stubborn, outgoing, calm and friendly; he's turned more serious and that old side of him was replaced with seeing the unspeakable horrors of what the Blight has left in its trail. He was tortured with blood, too much death, and other unimaginable things he wished he never had to face.

The blonde elf approaches his friend, more calm than he was a minute ago. "If this is what makes you happy, _lethallan_...then I can't hold you back."

Taleisin was surprised by his friends' sudden change of heart. Merrill nodded too as the trio hug once more. "Neither will I."

* * *

_ **The Following Morning - 6:00 AM** _

"Are you sure that this is what you want, Taleisin?"

He turns to see Lanaya, the new Keeper of the united Dalish clans. In those silvery eyes remained sparks of the blacksmith's fire. Her hair was also auburn-blonde curls while wearing noble-like Tevinter robes. Taleisin was finished putting the saddle onto the Brecilian Sure-Foot's back and getting finished attaching supplies onto the sides of the saddle as well.

"I already spoke this to Fenarel and Merrill about this. I'm a Warden and my heart is with Leon. Please, Keeper. This is my choice."

Lanaya watches him. Taleisin's Grey Warden armor was touched up nicely and his bow was sheathed on his back.

His well-designed longbow, _Razorsong_ , has been extremely well-constructed of magnificent dwarven black steel. Its string is made from excellent quality dragon sinew, a rare material. The limbs have been decorated with large halla horns and end in narrow points shaped like dragon claws; the handle's wrapped in black leather and decorated with ominous sigil paintings. The sizable quiver is made from woven leaves and is supposed to be worn around the archer's belt. The outer side has been decorated with ornate golden details.

He then mounts onto his hart, Avalon, and turns towards the exit of the camp when Lanaya stops him. "Again, thank you for giving Zathrian mercy ten years ago. We may never see you again, but remember that you will always be Dalish. Never forget that. _Dareth shiral, lethallan (Farewell, my friend)_."

Taleisin gives her one more nod and looks at Ostagar once more before his hart takes off into a gallop and heads to where he truly belongs.


	8. Dawning Light (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is, by far, the longest chapter I've ever written in any fanfiction I've ever written. And it took me now 2.5 weeks to write this. Since I had to do a lot of research for this as well as watching fantasy films to write a fighting scene, I'm sorry for taking this long.
> 
> I went further back in Thedas (date wise) to show what Leon Cousland, my human noble/Warden-Commander of the Grey Warden of Ferelden, has been up to.
> 
> Warning! There is a steamy sex scene between Leon and his lover, Taleisin Mahariel, towards the end. If you don't like a sex scene between two men, then please do not read!

_ **Current Location: Andoral's Reach (Northwest Orlais)** _

He's finally had enough. The First Warden himself claimed to have heard that the Blight had a cure and therefore, 30-year-old Leon Cousland had vowed to find it. But days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years... 8 whole years of being taken away from Taleisin as well as friends and family all because of a "mission" that wasn't going to be fulfilled.

Leon was angry to be the only Warden to be called to the cold fortress of Weisshaupt. The place was magnificent indeed, but the atmosphere was way too serious for his liking. Everything lacked humor and everyone was just not friendly towards him. Leon and his fellow Grey Wardens were the ones who killed the Archdemon and therefore ending the Fifth Blight, being hailed as the Heroes of Ferelden.

When Anora granted the southern lands of Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds to the Dalish, Leon gave Highever to his older brother Fergus and decided to go live with Taleisin. His beloved elf's scent stuck to his memory: sweet honey dipped onto toasted almonds or freshly picked apples from the autumn orchard mixed with a lush, musky spring blossom. No matter what, Taleisin's scent always stuck in the back of his mind. Eight long years of being away from him was breaking Leon's heart. Not having his lover in his arms, not being able to kiss him, caress his hair, or share the affection with his vhenan...he just couldn't stand it anymore.

The fourth day of Wintermarch - that was when he left Weisshaupt Fortress. How long has he been walking now? Weeks? Months? He couldn't tell, but once he left the arid sandstorms of the Anderfels and was welcomed once more by grasslands and floral landscapes for the very first time in eight years, he felt...relieved. The stress and burdens with the greedy First Warden and tense atmosphere from Weisshaupt lifted off his shoulders. He had found Andoral's Reach maybe a day ago to rest before he would continue his way onto Val Royeaux.

Leon had stuffed his luxury leather backpack full with supplies before he left the Anderfels. The golden dunes there were as the scales upon a great dragon's spine, yet one who has chosen to sleep for the ages. Cracks were deep in the barren, parched soil like a wizened old face, baked hard, no more hospitable to the delicate seeds than a scorched rock.

The young warrior starts a fire just outside the old Tevinter fortress. He was wearing his strong Warden-Commander armor with his weapons laying next to him.

His long, smooth sword's blade was made of adamantium is held by a grip wrapped in high quality drake skin. The blade has a barbed, warped crossguard, offering plenty of protection to Leon's hands and thus his life. The crossguard itself has an elaborate dragon tail on each side, a clear sign this weapon belongs to a champion. A small pommel is engraved with the Cousland family crest - twin laurel wreaths; the sword itself was enchanted with a master ice rune. This weapon was named _Winterthorn_. His fairly short, slightly curved dagger's blade was made of adamantium is held by a grip wrapped in fine, forest-green leather. The blade has a jagged crossguard, creating the ideal weight balance to allow for smooth and accurate swings with this blade. The cross-guard has an intricate hawk on each side, a clear sign this weapon belongs to a champion. A thick pommel is engraved with the symbol of the Dalish; the dagger itself was enchanted with a master fire rune. This weapon was named _Flamingshard_.

Leon stares at the flames. During the Blight ten years ago, the campfire had lit a glow in all of Leon and his companions every night. Between the songs and jokes, between the smiles and stories, their bonds became a kind of palpable ever-glow. Leon would do anything to have all of his companions at his side again.

Leliana, the carefree yet protective bard; she was basically the little sister he never had. Shale, the sarcastic golem who gave nicknames to everyone. Sten, the stoic hornless Qunari; he became Leon's trusted mentor who taught him the ways of becoming a stronger and more disciplined warrior. Alistair, Leon's best friend; he always detested questions with jokes which strengthened their bond to the point they become brothers. Icarus, his faithful mabari; he missed having the dog by his side and sadly, he was killed while in the Deep Roads. Wynne, a senior enchanter of Ferelden's Circle; she was the grandmother figure of the group and a very wise, understanding woman. He found the mage's grave not too far from his camp and it killed him. He won't be able to listen to her funny bantering with Alistair anymore. Morrigan, the sultry shapeshifter; she taught him to respect the ways of survival after his family was slaughtered in cold blood. Oghren, the crude berserker dwarf; the alcoholic man became a mentor as well as a drinking buddy. Zevran, the suave elven assassin; they became quick friends and he was glad to have him as such.

Leon's thoughts then changed to his family, the one he lost back in Highever due to Howe's betrayal. Their families were as close as kin for decades, so having dealt with such trauma angered him. Aldous, his tutor; Leon found his lessons pretty intriguing growing up. Iona, an elven lady-in-waiting; she was a sweet and shy woman who blushed at the former prince, but he never returned the affection. Mother Mallol, a mother of the Chantry who raised him; seeing her still corpse in Fort Drakon extended his hate of Howe's betrayal. Nan, the ornery cook; her quick temper and wit made it fun to tease her - although Leon would get in trouble for it. Lady Landra, a noblewoman and his mother's best friend, and Dairren, her son who sparred with him numerous times. Oren, his adventurous young nephew, and Oriana, his Orlesian sister-in-law. Ser Gilmore, fellow knight of Highever and close friend growing up; the two would train and often be found together.

The last three people of Leon's family who meant the most. Teyrn Bryce Cousland, his proud and strong father; he taught Leon everything he needed to know. Teyrna Eleanor Cousland, his stubborn yet nurturing mother; she raised him to be a strong young man. Prince Fergus Cousland, his protective older brother; they were close and people would often mistake them as twins - for they would cause trouble all around. Leon didn't know how hard he would be hit with such emotion of not having those he cared about. He did always remember his father's words that stuck with him all this time: ' _You are my cherished son. I love you, and I trust you completely to carry on the Cousland name if the worst should happen._ '

"I will, Father." An inhuman sound then gets his attention and Leon puts on his winged helmet before putting on his necklace his lover gave him. "Taleisin, wait for me just a little bit longer... I will return to you." He then grabs his dual weapons.

The warrior leaves the room and growled. The enhancements of the ice and fire runes in his weapons ignite. Soon, darkspawn appear around him. The first kind was bald, bronto-sized beings with yellowish skin, deepset eyes, and sunken cheeks while wearing pretty decent armor. The second kind were tall and lean with pointed ears and long, jagged blades attached to their forearms. ' _Shrieks and genlocks... Well, isn't this just grand..._ ' Leon's eyes then turn red as he felt his blood beginning to boil as he gets into a readying warrior stance. " _Ar tu na'lin emma mi (I will see your blood on my blade)!_ "

Releasing a screeching cry, a couple shrieks launch themselves towards Leon. He flies into a whirling dance of death, striking out at surrounding enemies with both weapons. The gore became a sickness in the emotions: mostly anger, rage even... One last shriek leaps onto Leon, managing to scratch his left cheek with its sharp claws. The warrior throws it off and slays it, the blood leaving its body in violent jets of red.

A few genlocks then go after Leon. The sharp end of his blades had hooked into one of the creature's neck and pulled out its carotid, ripping it in two. Blood is shed, pouring as easily as water from a well in a steady but dying rhythm. Meanwhile, a genlock emissary casts a spell onto Leon, who suffers a frustrating hex of inaccuracy. The caster's hands then erupt, emitting a bolt of lightning that inflicts electricity damage onto the warrior. It was more than just a slight tingle that ran underneath his skin. No, it was as though he'd been struck by lightning to each of his nerves, and his body convulsed as the violent electrical current pulsed through him.

A genlock master assassin comes up from behind to run its blades up Leon's back. But suddenly, the smell of blood gets to him and his berserker flies into a rage. He tapped into his deep reserves of energy to make each strike more powerful as he runs to kill the emissary. Soon, demons showed up as well.

The skeletons looked fresh. In some places, there was pink sheens where flesh had been newly removed. At the rear, the heads was cleaved open with a sharp knife and it was now hollow. The femurs had been sliced and the marrow removed with armor in various places. Leon slashed them all in no time. Two sloth demons in the forms of bereskarn then show up to go at the Warden. Using the boulders and spikes from the old fortress, Leon runs up of one and jumps onto one of the creatures' back and slices its head off. He was caught by another set of claws once more before a rage demon spews fire that makes the warrior's injuries scorch his skin and he falls onto his knees.

They thought Leon would get weaker once they wounded him. They were wrong. Suddenly, fire and ice and blood was being spilled everywhere. As if possessed, the warrior's eyes saw only red as he goes blood drunk. He launches multiple attacks fueled by his fury, ripping into foes and he becomes an unstoppable fury of physical force. 'I've been kept from my beloved for eight years! You will not keep me from him!' For an amount of time, Leon continued to see red as his rage killed the rest of his enemies. Soon, the waves of enemies have stopped. The red dissipated. His breathing seemed to stutter in his lungs before he let it go, feeling the tension drain from his body and returning to normal. He coughed up blood himself and starts to feel faint from the fight.

Leon's skin went ashen and he stumbled forward before he fell. Then he lay there in the dirt as still as a corpse, barely breathing at all due to blood loss. The only thing he remembers is hearing a voice calling out to him.

* * *

_ **(( New Location ))** _

Leon awakens to soft sheets, and the morning light trickled in through the blinds. Shedding himself of the remaining glimpses of a dream, his eyes were still shut as he soaks in the warmth of the covers before letting his blue eyes see the sun's rays. In the gentle airwaves the birds gave their song, those tiny friends of feather that adorned the sky. The dawn came with a musical silence, the soul hearing the melody that the ears could not. A new day had come, new possibilities, a fresh page yet to be written. The halo of the horizon arrives with golden grace.

The dancing fire licked and spat at the curved ceiling of the hearth with its glowing, bright golden flame while crowded in the crevices of the auburn bricks. The aroma of the flowers dances in the air as well as...herbs? The warmth was very comfortable unlike the cold atmosphere in the fortress. "Oh! You're finally awake!"

Leon groaned and turns his eyes to the left. A teen half-elf was taking care of him. He was wearing a cotton red chemise with a drawstring neckline and elasticized cuffs. He also has gleaming amber eyes and lengthy golden hair as he comes in with a tray of food. "How do you feel, my lord?"

"Wh-What happened...and where am I?"

"You are in Val Royeaux. We found out you outside Andoral's Reach. You were badly injured and incoherent. The entire time we were heading back here, you were unconscious and didn't wake up. My nanna believes a benevolent spirit has kept you alive for a time. When you started to come back around, we washed you up and tended to your wounds."

Leon was in disbelief. ' _A spirit kept me alive? But why..._ '

He shakes his head and sits up slowly. "What...is the date...? Do you know...?"

"It's the 20th of Solace." Leon was in shock. It's been over half a year that he's been out?! "You okay, mister?"

The Warden shakes his head lightly. "Yeah... I just...didn't know...I was out for so long. Anyway, I'm in bandages...?"

"Oh! Forgive me, my lord. My birth name is Rivoril, but I choose Iletheris instead. We merchants don't trust magic, so we make herbal medicine and used that on your wounds. Master Boregan has fixed your armor and Lady Laelia has tended to your belongings. Nanna is making food for you. I hope you are hungry."

Within a few minutes, the entire merchant group comes in. The human female comes in. This was Laelia who has lively hazel eyes and wavy brown hair. She was wearing a wine-red dress with emerald accents and a slim brown leather bodice as well as emerald suede leather boots. She quickly tends to Leon's wounds. Overall, all the bruises have faded with the scars on his stomach, legs, and back healed nicely. She changed his bandages on his arms as well as giving him a clean facial shave.

"Not used to being shaved by someone else, lad?" The male dwarf chuckles. Boregan has an oval-shaped face with rough golden skin as well as brown hair, cyan eyes, and a gigantic but neat braided beard. He was wearing a luxurious black velvet shirt with matching pants. Leon chuckles and shakes his head. "Not at all."

Finally, the older elf was Iletheris's grandmother. She has curly silver-blonde hair as it dangles down with amber eyes; the right eye was frosty in tone, signaling blindness. She was wearing a beautiful white cotton dress with forest-green trimming. Leon then realized the vallaslin on her blind eye, which was faded, and he bows to her respectfully. " _Andaran atish'an, hahren._ "

Iletheris was surprised by hearing him speak elven. "Since when do you speak elven?"

"Now, now, granddaughter. He shows formality and respect. My name is Serena." She hands the tray of food to Leon. There was spicy sausage, buttermilk biscuits lightly drizzled with honey, soft-boiled duck eggs, a cup of wine, and a bowl of tomato soup. "Now, who taught you to speak elven?"

Leon bites into the sausage quickly as she spoke. Seeing how hungry he was - it broke Serena's heart; this young man was starving. But after giving him a minute to digest it and letting him relax, he swallows and answers her. His eyes showed the sorrow he withheld in himself for so long. "The man I love...he's Dalish. I was returning from Weisshaupt to return to him when you guys found me..."

Boregan then remembers the armor. "Weisshaupt Fortress? You're a Grey Warden then?"

Leon nodded. "I am. My name is Leon Cousland."

They gasp and Laelia's mouth gaped open. "You're the Warden who killed the Archdemon and the one who disappeared. After your departure, you became scarce."

Leon had finished the sausage and eggs before answering her. "I intended to be that way. Taleisin and I wanted to live together without being separated. Two years after the Blight ended and I was Commander of the Wardens in Ferelden, the First Warden himself called for me specifically. But after eight years of his hollering in an atmosphere too serious for my tastes, I left."

Laelia nodded and closes her mouth. "Where was Taleisin the last time you saw him?"

"He was at Ostagar with his clan. Queen Anora has granted the ruins and Korcari Wilds to the Dalish of Ferelden. I dunno if he's still there or if he's traveled. I just..." The tears fill his eyes. "...I just want to be with him again. I just dunno where he is..."

Serena looks at him, offering a small smile. "Write to his clan. Maybe they can tell you where he went."

Leon nodded and wipes his eyes. "Do you have a quill with a pen and paper? It seems I have a few letters to write."

* * *

_ **Location: Summer Bazaar (Val Royeaux in Orlais)** _   
_ **Date: Saturday, The 27th of Solace in 9:41 Dragon** _

Today, this day of summer comes as a brilliant smile radiated from the heavens. The daylight comes as such intricately woven threads of gold so light that the Maker can only be so divine. The music was the city's external heartbeat, echoing from the windows; that atmosphere mixed with the fresh flora as well as the noble colors of blue, white, and gold was just breathtaking. Crimson drapes blew with the gentle breezes and while the fashion was just strange to him, Leon was returning to civilized life and he - with his rescuers - have really helped.

Leon was with Serena and the other merchants at the market restaurant with them. Word of the Grey Warden's return was spreading throughout Thedas. His somewhat skeletal physique filled back in and his black hair grew until it ended at his shoulder blades with life returning to his Payne's Grey eyes that hinted with a golden-hazel tint. He grew a small stubble as well. He was wearing a fancy black linen long sleeve with a weathered forest-green leather coat, a long leather belt with branded diamond pattern, and long black pants as well as black leather boots.

"Anyway, Leo. You never talked about Taleisin while you were here. What's he like?"

He looked at Iletheris as they ate braided butter-honey bread, waiting for their entrees. Leon thinks back a decade when they set up after escaping Ostagar. "At first, Taleisin was...a loner. I could tell that he was very close with his kin and didn't want to be away from them. But he was sick after an eluvian tainted him. He was on borrowed time and for about a fortnight, he didn't even talk or sleep in a tent. The only two people he allowed to get close was Wynne and Nynia...who happened to be his cousin and yet he didn't know."

Laelia was surprised. "Wait... The teynir of Gwaren is Taleisin's cousin?"

"That's right." He sips his hot rose herbal tea before continuing. "But after I located where his clan was and brought him with me, he...turned around and saw me down when his happiness reuniting with his clan reminded me of my family who were slaughtered because of betrayal."

Boregan nodded. "And he fell for you after talking things up?"

"That's right." Soon, a masked male server comes up to give the group their food. There was a large pork roast with softened potatoes as well as peas mixed with steamed rice.

"Here you are. Also, my lord. Three letters are for you."

Leon takes the letters and starts to read them. The first letter was sealed with the insignia of the Inquisition: an eyed sun with a sword piercing it through the middle. He reads the intricate copperplate handwriting:

_Leonhart Thadeus Cousland,  
_ _I have worried dearly for your health.  
I beg of you: please come to Skyhold in the Frostback Mountains once you have fully recovered.  
To lose you again, it would be the death of me.  
You have become a brother to me and you not talking for ten years...  
I just miss having you in my life.  
_ _My love, Leliana - Spymaster for the Inquisition_

The young warrior smiles at hearing back from Leliana. She was the only one he told that he was leaving, but not to where any specific location. He then opens the next letter. The familiar angular handwriting was very recognizable as he reads it:

_Brother! You sneaky bastard! A decade goes by without word from you.  
Anyway, I'm glad to hear that you're back. Be careful out there.  
When you return to Highever, I'd like you to meet my new wife and twin daughters.  
They'll be thrilled to see you.  
_ _Love, Fergus Cousland - Teyrn of Highever_

"Wow. I suppose he's recovered from Oren and Oriana after all..."

"Your brother?" Boregan was quite curious now. Leon nodded. "Yes. He's married and a father of two...with another one on the way. Has he ever said anything about them?"

"I have. Lady Velariel is an elf raised from poverty and transformed into a beautiful woman after Fergus nursed her back to health. She is a golden being with eyes like star sapphires. As for your two nieces...they are quite the pair."

"How so?" Leon chuckles as he eats a spoonful of rice.

Laelia answers that. "Lynura... She's shown signs of being a mage, yet she's hidden her abilities quite well. She's quite modest - yet always cracking jokes and has an even temper. Lillian is non-religious as well as always calm and has a stunning singing voice. She wishes to become a bard someday, but her mother disapproves."

"Maybe when all of this is over, I can ask Leliana to train her." Attached to the final letter was a green leather, leaf-designed coinpurse that had gold in it. Leon then opens the letter to read it, seeing the exquisite cursive handwriting:

_Dearest Leon,  
_ _It's been very difficult for Taleisin.  
He's been missing you dearly and not too long ago, he left Ostagar...for good this time.  
I received word from him yesterday that he's spending a few days in Redcliffe Village.  
He told us that he wishes to no longer be separated from you, wishing to be with you when you return.  
All I ask is that you take care of him for us and know that you are always welcome among our people.  
_ _Ma serannas and dareth shiral,_   
_Lanaya - Keeper of the Dalish in Ostagar_

Serena looked over. "Your lover is in Redcliffe. Do you plan on returning to him soon?"

Leon nodded to them. "I do. I wish to leave tomorrow morning. I really do appreciate you guys helping me recover, not taking my things, and repairing my weapons. I really do. I consider you guys my friends, but it is time I return home to the man I love the most."

Boregan chuckles and nodded. "It has been an honor, my lord."

Iletheris goes over to hug him. "I'm gonna miss you. Don't forget us!"

Leon was surprised by the hug, but he returns it. "Nor I you."

Laelia gives the Warden a large book. "My book of healing herbs should you require it. You'll need it."

He was shocked, but he takes the gift. "I shall cherish it, Laelia. Thank you." He then turns to Serena. " _Ma serannas, hahren._ "

The elder elf smiles softly. "It was good to get to know you, _da'len_. May you do us proud."

* * *

_ **Location: Redcliffe Village (Western Hills of Ferelden)** _   
_ **Date: Saturday, The 2nd of Kingsway in 9:41 Dragon** _

Nightfall comes with a whisper of perfect black that grows into a comforting chorus of stars. The night sky expanded as black angel wings, protecting Thedas as she dreams.  
Leon was finally back in Ferelden and seeing major changes in Redcliffe Village was pretty intriguing. The waters on Lake Calenhad has become more reflective in nature with rebuilt stone docks with more stores and vendors, a bigger tavern now named _The Gull and Lantern_ , and the windmill now torn down; even Redcliffe Castle looked much different now.

Leon heads to the tavern. The two-story inn is a large timber and brick building, giving it a snug, warm and cheerful atmosphere. The clientele was slow, making Leon feel relieved. He then spots Bella, the new owner of the tavern. She was wearing a burgundy, short-sleeve dress; her red hair had became a soft auburn, and in the starlight, it was the most rich of browns. Her light-green eyes are like the new forest foliage in the pure sunshine.

Bella sees Leon walk into the tavern and she almost dropped her jaw. She excuses to her waitresses before running to hug him. "Where have you been?! I thought the word of your return was a farce, but I was wrong." She pulls back to look at him. "Anyway, why are you here?"

Leon chuckles. "Is Taleisin here at all by chance, Bella?"

"He is. Second room upstairs. I take it you don't wish to be disturbed once you're there?" When he nodded, Bella does as well. "Alright. Just close the door leading to the rooms to keep drinking patrons down here. I'll note to the others borrowing rooms as well."

Leon pats her shoulder before he finally heads upstairs. Once at the room, he takes a long deep breath and steps inside the room quietly. Taleisin was asleep in the bed. The warrior closes the door, removing his heavy armor and weapons quietly before finally approaching his lover.

The waves in Taleisin's hair was no longer there; it was now straight and grew a little bit to his slender shoulders. The elf also lost weight to a slim muscular body build, his vallaslin has faded some, and he had a few faded tear streak marks. Leon felt so bad for leaving Taleisin alone for this long, but he was now back.

Leon gently shakes Taleisin's shoulder, who stirs gently in the bed. The elf's eyes open slightly as a familiar scent hits his nose. He looks up and when he sees the beautiful blue-grey and golden eyes...the emotions swirled with the ice water circling the cold metal drain as streaks of fire burned the elf's cheeks. "Leon!" Not wasting another second, Taleisin throws himself into Leon's arms. He didn't care where his beloved had disappeared to; he was just happy to have him back.

The Warden hugs his elf with all his might, caressing his hair. "I'm so sorry, _ma vhenan_. I truly am sorry for leaving you alone for so long."

When Leon cups his cheek, Taleisin closed his eyes and savored the touch. For the first time in 8 long years, his body and mind relaxed. "I know. But I'm so happy." Then, the thing the elf has waited for: a deep longing kiss. In that moment, they are in each others' protective cocoon.

**~~~~~**

**[[ ++STEAMY SEX SESSION || YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!++ ]]**

Taleisin was then suddenly pushed up against the wall as Leon's strong hands holding his hips. The raven's hands then moved to grasp the elf's buttocks. Heat went to Taleisin's erecting cock and moaned. Leon's kisses upon his neck ignited such a fire within him, making the elf cry out at the raging electric pulses that coursed throughout his entire body.

The raven gasped as his brunette then slid his hand between his legs and gently squeezed his own throbbing cock. Leon pulls his lips back, a small string of saliva having connected between them. "You're so naughty, _ma vhenan_. How long have you been waiting for me to do this?"

Taleisin reopens his eyes, glossing his vision a little bit. "E-Ever since...you left and have been gone..."

"Good." Leon's hands left the brunette's buttocks and traveled up to wind up tangled within his hair, while Taleisin's hands cupped the raven's face affectionately. Soon, the elf was laid gently back down onto the wool-filled mattress. Taleisin's legs parted to allow Leon to lie between them, feeling their cocks rubbing against each others'.

The human then rubs his thumbs on Taleisin's cheeks in smooth circles, feeling his silken black hair falling forward to protect their faces like a velvet curtain. After a few more minutes, Leon pulls his brunette up and their kiss breaks. "Undress me, my love."

Taleisin then unbuttons the metal clasps of Leon's shirt and pulls it off, revealing those familiar chest muscles...of which was now scarred with healed wounds. Leon pulls his brunette's shirt off to reveal the beautiful slim figure he maintained. The elf gasps as his eight-inch cock was freed from his pants as his lover took them off. He lays back down on the mattress and he cries out softly as he felt his human's hand strokes him gently.

As he does so, their lips meet once more. Each kiss was deeper and their tongues collided with each other and mixing their saliva once more. After a bit, Leon pulls back to leave a trail of kisses on Taleisin's torso. He slowly moves down and licks the elf's shaft before enveloping the entire length into his mouth. The sensation alone sent shockwaves of immense pleasure that reverberated throughout Taleisin's entire body.

Leon pulls back to see his lover. In that sweat, Taleisin's skin became more beautiful, more glowing, than any his heart could have imagined. He sticks a finger into his mouth, coating it with a generous amount of saliva before running the finger over the elf's pink entrance. "Taleisin, I don't want to hurt you. Please tell me when you get uncomfortable, okay?"

Taleisin nodded and gives his raven a soft deep kiss. Slowly, Leon inserts one finger into the brunette's entrance. Taleisin twitched a little, but it was fine. Another finger goes in to begin a scissor-like motion; eight years of sexual inaction was slightly painful. When a third finger was inserted, he gritted his teeth and whimpered in pain as tears filled his eyes. "Shhh..."

Leon keeps his fingers still and rests his forehead against Taleisin's. " _Ir abelas (I'm sorry),_ my love _._ " He slowly removes his fingers and grabs a cloth to clean them. He then removes his own pants to reveal his throbbing eleven-inch cock. Leon then pushes Taleisin's legs apart as wide as they would allow. "Are you ready?"

The brunette nodded. "Yes."

He closed his eyes and inhales as he felt Leon's cock push inside of him. After a moment, he pushes the rest of himself inside of Taleisin, who arched his back and cries out softly as he wrapped his arms around Leon tightly. "It hurts..."

"I know and I'm sorry." Their eyes locked and he reaches down, gently wiping Taleisin's tears away with his thumb. "I promise to never leave your side again...not without telling you first. Okay?"

Taleisin nodded and their eyes stay locked before Leon starts to move. The elf was in some pain, but the strong love they had for each other lessened it greatly and pleasure fully kicks in. His cock pressed between their bodies as Leon pounded his partner harder. When he hit something deep inside his lover after quite some time, Taleisin cries out in extreme pleasure. "By the Creators...!"

The elf arched his back, cumming hard onto his stomach. Leon leans down to kiss Taleisin deeply as he groaned out loud, spewing his own seed deep inside of the elf. After a minute, he pulls out and wrapped his arms around Taleisin. He sighs in contentment and pulls his brunette into his arms.

**[[ ++STEAMY SEX SESSION NOW OVER++ ]]**

**~~~~~**

After a moment, Taleisin grabs a cloth to wipe the sweat off his forehead and seed off his stomach. His heart fluttered and wraps the blankets over the both of them before wrapping his arms around Leon.

"You came back to me, my love. And I know that we may separate for a time once more. Just...don't let it be for quite awhile."

Leon turns over and kisses Taleisin's forehead. "I know. I promise. Now sleep peacefully. I won't be going anywhere."

He lets the elf adjust his position and rests his head on Leon's chest, his heart beating slowly putting him to sleep. "I love you, Leon."

He cuddles his brunette closer and smiles. "I love you too, Taleisin."

* * *

_ **(( The Next Morning ))** _

The sunrise came as if it had missed the sky and wanted nothing more than to warm up those blues to a radiant gold. The sunlight streams golden through the window in a well mannered announcement of the risen sun. Taleisin yawns as he awakens to find Leon holding onto him still. So his return and last night was no dream after all...

Leon wakes up as well, seeing those beautiful twin emerald orbs. "Good morning, beautiful."

Taleisin blushes softly. "Good morning, Leon. Did you...sleep well last night?"

Leon leans forward to kiss Taleisin. "I did. I have you back in my life and without being in such a serious environment anymore, I can actually relax be my normal self again. Wanna go wash up, get dressed and have breakfast?"

Taleisin kisses Leon back affectionately. "Yeah."

The lovers then go wash up, with Taleisin helping shave his lover's underarms as well as chest, face, and groin. After that and changing into clean clothes, they head downstairs where Bella was awaiting for them. "By the Maker, were you two noisy last night."

Leon blushes madly. "You actually _heard_ us, Bella?"

She chuckles a little. Was she embarrassed and found it attractive? "I have nothing but absolute support of your relationship and driving out my customers was not so nice. But since you two haven't been with each other such a long time, I'll let it slide just this once. Can I ask you for your breakfast?"

Leon and Taleisin both chuckle as they wanted the same thing. "Sure. Braided bread topped with honey, hot chili, and fresh blackberries."

Bella smiles. "I shall see to that. Will some sweet wine suffice to drink?"

"Yes. Thanks, Bella."

After a few minutes, the lovers get their breakfast. Golden bread appeared to have bloomed right there on the counter, its aroma conjuring the warmest of smiles; the amber sweetness of honey topping it takes in the morning sunlight to become a perfect golden hue. The blackberry became ever sweeter in that strong August sun. The hot chili bowl was homey. It was the hearth within, made with love and served with real nurture. In that wine bottle was a thousand perfect grapes, the gifts of the rich brown earth and a generous sun. Their breakfast was filling and delicious.

After eating, Leon and Taleisin get into their armor and were getting ready to head out. But a loud bird-like sounding scream is heard and getting the attention of the entire village. When multiple sounds of the same one is heard, the Wardens were confused. But the sight becomes breathtaking and marvelous as they see the creatures that were thought only existed in stories: two beautiful griffons fly down and land close to the docks. The people were stunned in disbelief to see them - not to mention _two_ of them.

They were both eight feet tall with 25 feet long wings with a fawn color scheme, owl-like tufts for ears, and matching "voices"; it hinted at these two females are sisters. They both had different traits to tell them apart. The one on the left has a lean chest with some soft specks of a peach color throughout her fur and wings. She also has friendly moonlit eyes, sharp ebony talons, and black leather cords tied to its tail, holding white feathers. Her leonine tail has a small tuft of dark peach fur at the tip. The other female of the right has a deep chest with an undertone of caramel on her wings as well as a fearsomely sharp beak, wise hazel eyes, sharp ebony talons, and a leonine, whip-like tail with a brush of white fur at the tip. She also has a half-healed scar mark on the perfection of her left hind leg.

Taleisin was cautious as he approaches them. The one with the moonlit eyes slowly approaches him, showing curiosity as if examining him. Griffons were very intelligent and could understand the common tongue. After a moment, the elf stared as if the creature could tell that he was a Grey Warden and leans her head down. Taleisin turns his head away and extends his hand towards her beak. After hesitating for a moment, the griffon leans forward and presses her head to his palm. When she emitted a soft purr, Taleisin smiles as he turns his head back to her and pets her more.

Leon then approaches the other one, who didn't hesitate to let him touch her soft cheek. "Are you...gonna let us...be your riders?"

She leans down to expose her back to him and Leon was surprised. He takes a deep breath and mounts onto her back. As she stands back up fully, something awakened within Leon. It was as if...this was meant to be. He was meant to fly. The other griffon allows Taleisin to mount onto her back as well. The Grey Wardens riding strong aerials were no longer a thing of the past.

The young elf whispers into the creature's ear. " _Tarosa (Fly)._ "

It was as if she knew his words and shifts a little bit before she rears up and starts running. Her wings open and Taleisin gets into sync with her movement before she takes off into the skies. The clouds were given rosy glow by the rising sun as they got higher into the skies. Taleisin was scared at first as the world slowly got smaller beneath him, but when Leon catches up, Taleisin chuckles and the comfort of his mount helped him calm down.

They turn to fly to the west to head to Orzammar to get their dwarven friends. The griffons have risen again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that the griffons didn't return to Thedas until after Inquisition: Trespasser DLC was over. But I just couldn't resist it. Bringing them in seemed the right move for me to write.
> 
> This chapter has a lot of time dates to show how far back I went as well as other stuff and I deeply apologize. Next chapter, we're gonna get my Aeducan and Brosca into the picture.
> 
> Any constructive criticism and reviews are deeply appreciated.


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